Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

As his consciousness faded, his mind swimming in the coughing dustbowl that had erupted as all his feelings and all his thoughts turned to ash, he began to recollect a familiar sense of dread. The creeping hand of death rose from a cavernous paradise, where spider lilies sprung up from the hollows of skeletons, filling in the empty spaces and attempting to beautify the horror of decay.

He heard the soft moaning of souls, the begotten and forgotten, and if he held his breath he could almost recognize the voices.

It wasn't long before he realized he knew the voices. The voice. Severed by time and by torture and by the twisted toll of karmic intervention.

The creeping hand of death was outstretched, and he saw its slender little fingers grappling at bare air, joints locking while the bone white arm was overtaken by muscle spasms.

He saw it.

On that night, dangling on the end of Rize's drooping fingertips, a clown was laughing.

He wasn't sure what that meant, even in hindsight. Laughter had warped inside his head, a cacophony of low moans clashing with high and mighty chortles. He felt like a chess piece knocked off the board, and now he could only sit in bone chilling agony, staring up as a higher player captured a pawn and a knight.

It couldn't matter now, anyway, could it?

Since he was already…

Heaven smelled like antiseptic.

Of course, he couldn't complain, because the scent of decomposition had burned the hair from his nostrils. Blood and piss and something rotten. Why did that scent have to be so familiar? It was odd to not be plagued by the distinctive foulness of someone rotting away, be it literally or not.

But heaven smelled so clean, it was tickling the back of his throat and regurgitating sour tastes. Stomach acid washed over his tongue, which sat heavily in his sealed mouth. Heaven felt lethargic. He didn't know if his limbs would move, but he didn't want to move them, so he left them to the pervading white haze.

Pain was like a dull, faded memory. Needles in his eyes and blood seeping from his lips? That had been a bad dream.

Bad dreams. Nightmares of Death standing amongst the sprouting spider lilies, parting them with a startlingly precise gait. Death moved so deliberately, stepping with the knowledge that one mishap could botch an entire meticulously developed strategy.

Death had cut him down.

And now he was lying in heaven with tubes in his arms, and that was disorienting by itself. Even through the milky high, he found something wrong with this picture. Heaven didn't provide drugs. Heaven did not sing songs of beeping life machines. Where was the need when you were dead?

He opened his eyes, and the white glare of heaven's sky winked back.

Kaneki Ken was comfortable and safe, and that was simply because Kaneki Ken was dead.

A shadow blotted his view of the overreaching white slate of sky. A light sunk into his eyes and he snapped them closed instinctively. Words were funneled through the cotton stuffed inside his ears, and all that he received were slow rhythms of sounds. Like someone humming underwater.

His consciousness drifted back once more into the solemn graveyard of ashes and spider lilies.

It seemed to him that this hell of flowers was far more appealing than that heaven of blindness and deafness and intoxication. To be dead in his memory was relieving compared to being dead in scorching light and excruciating ringing and inexplicable numbness.

When he returned to consciousness he felt that something was deeply wrong.

He was in pain.

What cruel god could inflict pain on the deceased?

Unless he was in hell.

That would honestly explain a lot.

How could he delude himself into thinking he'd be worthy of heaven?

He had to work off some sins and pray he hadn't damned himself utterly.

Something cold and wet met his lips, and he opened his eyes, recalling the burning sensation at the back of his throat as blood sloshed against his tongue. He expected to taste iron as the liquid hit his tongue, but as his head was held upward he was able to swallow a cool mouthful of water that soothed the desert sands of his throat.

His mouth was wiped gingerly, and he sat for a moment in a dumb silence, shock beginning to subside as he was propped upright, his abdomen flaring with a startling amount of pain. He gasped, his fingers flying to his stomach, and he curled up defensively. What wound was this? Where had he gotten this?

Was he… was he alive after all?

"What…?" He exhaled, his voice hitting his throat like sandpaper, slicing through the air and grinding against his teeth. It tasted bad. Rotten.

"Oh!" A pair of hands captured his shoulders, and he looked up sharply. His eyes adjusted to the blinding whiteness of it all, the heaven that was not, the light that was blinding, and he saw a woman's face. He stared at her vacantly. She looked somewhat familiar, but he couldn't place her name. "Easy, easy. There's no rush."

"Where…?" He blinked rapidly as she pushed his shoulders back gingerly until his spine hit a pillow. He held his head in one hand while the other clawed at itchy white sheets. White, white, white, oh where did it end? He wondered if he blended right in with the décor. Sickly pale skin and sickly pale hair and sickly pale clothes. He supposed the only color to him would be his eyes. Eye? He wasn't sure.

"You're in the hospital, Kaneki," the woman told him gently. "Don't you remember the accident?"

"Accident…?" Is that what they were calling that man's butcher of him?

Something didn't feel right here.

The woman looked concerned now, her brow pinching worriedly, and she squinted at him.

"Well," she said cautiously, "you've been out for a few days, so it's not abnormal that you might have some memory lapse."

"A few days?" He was remembering it all now. The CCG, the battles, Hide, Anteiku… "I… I'm alive, right?" He raised his hands to his eyes, feeling them uncertainly, and he came to the conclusion that they were still there and that they hadn't been stabbed out. "This is… real, isn't it?"

"Oh," the nurse said, her voice filled with pity. An irritating amount of pity. "Yes, you're very much alive, and you're on your way to a speedy recovery! I know a near death experience can be frightening, but I'm sure you can take this and become stronger from it."

"Uh. Okay." He stared at her bemusedly. "Thanks. So does that mean I can be discharged?"

"Your recovery isn't that speedy!"

Yeah it is, he thought, rubbing his eyes reflexively. They were a little sore. Did you not notice my eyes grew back and my skin sealed itself or…?

"I'd like to go home at the soonest possible time," he said, lowing his hands into his lap. "So can you please let me know when that is? I've already been here way too long."

"Well, surgery takes time to recuperate from!" the nurse huffed. She looked a little agitated now, and he stared at her vacantly.

"Surgery?" he repeated confusedly.

Something… really… wasn't right…

The nurse looked down at her feet, and Kaneki could sense the death in the air, bad news creeping up on him from the way she tensed her shoulders and averted her eyes. Who had died?

Dread was such a devastating force.

He was gripping his blankets with stubby fingernails, his body frozen in anticipation. Who to mourn, who to avenge. This was how he had to cope.

"Unfortunately," the nurse murmured, "you were the only survivor of the accident. The girl you were with was dead on arrival, so—"

"What girl?" he gasped, his heartbeat accelerating and his knuckles clenching the sides of his mattress, his mind in shambles as he realized that he had no idea what was happening, and anyone could have found him after Death's— after the dove's assault. If it had been a girl…

Not you, he thought desperately. Why you? Why can't you just… let yourself be happy and safe, Touka? Why…?

Something wasn't adding up. Why would the CCG take him to a hospital? Why would they take Touka if…?

"Kamishiro Rize?" The nurse tilted her head. "She was with you when it happened. I thought you two might've—"

"What?"

The nurse took a step back in alarm. Perhaps his tone had been a little too harsh. Incredulous. Furious.

Now he knew why this nurse looked familiar. She'd been the woman who had been his nurse after the incident with Rize. But what the hell was going on now?

"Oh, so you… did know her then…?"

Kaneki pushed himself up and away from the pillows, his fists sinking into his hospital bed as he attempted to maneuver his legs out from beneath the blankets. His legs felt gelatinous, immobile and quivery. Every little twitch of his knees sent a stab of pain shooting into his abdomen, and he couldn't ignore it or suffer through it. His body felt so weak and sensitive, and that made it difficult to put on a brave face and pretend like pain meant nothing to him.

"Stop moving!" The nurse grasped his shoulders and pushed him back. He stared at her with wild eyes, and he pressed his arms to his stomach, exhaling sharply through his teeth. "There, you see? You're in no condition to leave just yet."

"What's going on?" He whispered. "Rize… is…"

"Dead," the nurse said in a soft, sympathetic voice. "I'm sorry. Did you know her well?"

He stared at her. What was he supposed to say? What the hell was happening?

"Not… really," he managed to choke out.

"Ah." She turned her face away, her tired eyes growing distant and dim. "That's unfortunate. It seemed she didn't have any family either."

Kaneki couldn't even manage a reply. His voice was stuck in his burning throat, and his thoughts were stuck in Death's flowery field, where the spider lilies grew, where the corpses were blanketed by spindly red beauty wavering on strings.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Kaneki blurted.

The nurse glanced down at him in surprised, but she nodded quickly. "Oh! Right, you'll have to take your IV, but—"

"Yeah, that's fine." He waited impatiently as she disconnected him from the heart monitor and helped him sit completely upright. There was an unfathomable burning in his chest, and an inexplicable stabbing in his stomach. Like there was a grease fire licking at his ribs and a pair of talons ripping at his navel from the inside out.

Whatever pain meds they were giving him, they'd just about stopped working.

He pressed his lips together thinly as his legs wobbled and buckled beneath his weight. He had to cling to the nurse for a few moments as he doubled over, breathless and teary eyed. His body wasn't responding to anything, and he wondered just how much damage that damn dove had done.

He was beginning to fear that this was all a nightmare, and that he would wake up naked on his stomach a metal table, and the sound of a mechanical drill or saw would fill his ears before blinding, white hot pain and screams.

Was that how it worked? Stealing kagune?

He felt sick.

"Ah, maybe you aren't ready for this just yet…"

"I'm fine," he gasped, shooting her a frantic look. "I'm fine! Really. Just." He managed a weak smile, and he turned his eyes upward toward the ceiling. "I wasn't expecting my stomach to hurt so much."

"Well there was quite a bit of damage internally," the nurse told him gently. "You really shouldn't be standing yet, but I think it's best that you stretch your legs."

"Yeah." He straightened up, and it was a little relieving. There wasn't so much strain on his stomach any longer. "I feel better now. Thank you for helping me."

"Oh!" She beamed at him. "No, don't worry. This is my job. Let's get you to the bathroom."

"I'd like to walk myself, actually." He grasped the pole of the IV drip and wheeled it closer to his bare feet. He noted the color of his toenails. They weren't blackened and dead. How had that happened?

She objected, of course, but he already began walking, and with every step he gained an ounce of strength that he'd lacked previously. He could not sit in a hospital to rot while his friends were out there suffering.

"Well," she huffed, "if you won't listen to me, maybe you'll listen to your doctor! He wanted to speak with you when you woke up."

Kaneki turned slowly toward her. His… doctor…?

"Okay," he said.

Whoever his doctor was had to know he was a ghoul, right? If he'd been asleep for days, if they'd really done surgery… though none of that really made any sense…

He followed the nurse's directions until he reached a closed door. The hospital was really familiar, and he knew that this corridor was… this was…

He stepped back.

There was a black plaque beside the door, and a white engraving proclaimed the inhabitant behind the thin slab of wood.

Dr. Kanou.

Kaneki's feet slid back against the linoleum, squeaking softly like sneakers on a basketball court, and he looked around hurriedly, his eyes wide and his heart stuttering. What did he do? Where did he go? How was this even possible? How could this all be happening again?

He needed to get away from here. He needed to recollect himself, his thoughts, figure out what had happened to him before he did something he'd regret.

Just as he was turning away, moving at an agonizing pace because of the pole he had to wheel along, the door swung open. A gust of air hit his back, and his mind withered in recognition, weathered into ash, and wilted from a moment of weakness.

"Oh," Dr. Kanou said, sounding vaguely shocked but mostly amiable. "Kaneki! I didn't expect to see you out of bed so soon! How are you feeling?"

His words buzzed inside Kaneki's head.

A wave of déjà vu crashed into him, and he was drowning in the sensation that he'd been here before, that this was something he'd heard before, that this had all happened before.

No fucking way.

The man's face was a familiar sight. Something Kaneki had come to abhor, something that sparked the most primal rage inside him.

This man.

This fucking man!

Kaneki turned to face him, his fists clenching around the pole of his IV drip.

"You," he said flatly.

Kanou looked a little confused, his eyebrows arching to his gelled hair, and he leaned forward curiously.

"Yes," Kanou sighed, bowing his head. "I'm your doctor. I understand you might have some misgivings about my decision to make the transplant, but let me—"

He didn't finish his sentence. A stray wheel crashed into his cheek, the metal support slicing a nice little cut open at his cheekbone, and the doctor stumbled and half collapsed in the doorway, succumbing to the force of Kaneki's swing. The bag full of some clear, liquid medication slapped and sloshed against the air as he held the pole level and held his head high.

"You," he snapped, his voice shaking in all his unbridled rage, "don't get to give and take and meddle with life without consequence! You don't get to play god and make monsters!"

Kanou cupped his cheek in his hand, glancing up at Kaneki fearfully, and Kaneki realized this was the first time he'd ever seen this man look anything like a human being, who could understand his own mortality, and understand that he had no power over his own creation.

Good. There was satisfaction in the sight of Kanou's eyes gazing at Kaneki not with pride, but with terror.

People were shouting now, and he realized what he'd done— in a very, very public place— and he blinked rapidly. He needed to get out of here. He tore at the tape on his arms, slipping the needles and tubes from his veins, and he tossed the IV aside. He stumbled back as a group of nurses came rushing toward him, and he held his hands up as a male nurse moved toward him, likely to try to restrain him.

"Dr. Kanou," one of the nurses gasped. "Can you hear me? Are you okay?"

Kaneki wished he could just wring the man's neck. But there were still so many things unanswered, and this had already gone way too far. He didn't want anyone else getting hurt. So he took quick, uneasy steps back, his hands still raised, and he took a deep breath.

"I want to be discharged," he said sharply. "Today."

And with that, he spun around and fled. He knew that there was no way he'd be able to get to Kanou without causing even more of a commotion, and he regretted hitting the man outside the door, because if he'd gone into the office to hit him, then Kaneki could have interrogated him much easier.

He'd fucked up such a golden chance!

That was stupid, he thought at himself angrily. Stupid and reckless! This is why you never get any answers!

Maybe he was going about it all wrong. Maybe aggression was a bad tactic to use. He'd been pushing this route for so long, devouring and slaughtering and stomping on the severed limbs of the guilty, but perhaps he was wrong to pass judgment so swiftly and cruelly.

After all, was that not the CCG's method of dealing with ghouls?

Swiftly, cruelly, without mercy?

Kaneki needed to rethink his strategy if he wanted to get any answers.

He ran into a bathroom, pain electrifying his entire abdomen, and he doubled over in pain, wrapping his arms around his stomach and shouldering a wall as his heavy, uneven breaths tore at his uncomfortably dry throat.

This was wrong. He was wrong!

But how could he fix it now? Was it too late?

He'd wanted to go back to Anteiku. Was that even possible now?

He regretted so much so fast that it was throwing off his equilibrium.

He needed to sit down.

So he slid to his knees, resting his forehead against the cool wall, and he closed his eyes. He'd made such a mess of everything. It would have been so much better if Kanou hadn't saved him.

But then I wouldn't know the friends I've made, he reminded himself. Mr. Yoshimura, Irimi, Koma, Yomo, Hinami, Nishiki, Tsukiyama, Banjou, Touka… I wouldn't know any of them…

What a painful thought.

He let himself sit there. He couldn't be certain how long he lost himself in drifting thoughts of friends who suffered because of his own inadequacy. Pain was familiar, but this sensation was amplified by his wavering mental state. He didn't know why nothing felt right, why everything felt lethargic and dull. He didn't know why he was sickened with déjà vu. He wished it would just end so he could think clearly.

When he was finally sick to death of his own musings, he pushed himself shakily to his feet. There was no use moping about all his mistakes now. If he could just… talk to the manager… just one more time… maybe he could sort something out. Bargain with the CCG.

He didn't want to think about the fact that Kanou was out of hiding and that he'd just had surgery and there was something floating about pertaining to Rize, which made no sense because Rize was in Yomo's care, wasn't she?

Anyway, he straightened himself up, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. He couldn't shake that feeling. The sensation of something dipping into his pupil, consuming iris and sclera and lashes and eyelid until the whole of the eye was sucked up into a black hole, and the soft tissue of his brain was punctured.

Death had given him a quick, vicious lobotomy. He wondered how his personality was still intact.

He wandered toward the sink, flicking it on and gathering water in his hands. His fingernails, like his toes, seemed to be a proper, healthy color, which was bemusing but not entirely surprising at this point. He splashed water into his face, scrubbing into his eyes and into the folds of his nose and around his mouth, as though it'd wash away the blood that had marred his face before he'd woken up into hell dressed like heaven.

Nothing really hurt around his face. That was so strange, considering how extreme his injuries had been. Had he dreamt that up?

He wiped at his face with a paper towel, and as he did so he caught the eye of a tired looking boy with a round face and dark hair.

It took him a moment to realize it was his reflection.

"Ah!" He stumbled back, his shoulder blade bumping into a stall, and he gaped at the mirror, his hands flying to his black hair and his fingers clawing at the roots. "What…? What is this…?"

It wasn't just his hair. His entire face had changed. It was so… healthy and youthful, and his eyes had a light in them that he didn't recognize, and that almost hurt. What was this? What kind of hell was this?

This was definitely him, of course, like of course he recognized his own reflection, but holy shit! Holy shit! Why did he look so young? He poked his own cheek, and his finger sunk into a fleshy dimple that appeared when he half-closed his mouth.

Now he was thinking. Now the dust was shifting in his mind, and he sifted aside all thoughts of Death and doves, pulling forward the recollection of that night. That night, the one that had started it all, the night Rize had attacked him and the beams had fallen from the sky and he had followed the trail of Rize's deadly little fingertips, followed the end of her gaze up into the sky where a clown laughed and laughed at their misfortune.

It felt so vivid in his head. Like it had only just happened, like he was remembering something from only a few days past, and like that fight with the doves for Anteiku was just a bad dream.

And now he was in a hospital, a familiar hospital with a familiar staff, and they were saying that he'd just had surgery, that Rize was dead, that the operation was a success, that Dr. Kanou had made that decision, and he didn't understand because this had already happened! He'd been here before and he wanted to go back! He had to save Anteiku!

People didn't just fall asleep one day and wake up a year before. It didn't work like that.

Unless this really was heaven. Was this how heaven worked? Had he… had he honestly died, and now as a reward… or punishment… he got to relive the suffering he'd gone through from the moment those beams had fallen atop Rize. From the moment fate had stolen any semblance of a human death he could ever have.

So was this heaven or hell?

Thinking back, this was undoubtedly hell.

He didn't really want to relive all that horror.

All that pain…

This time I can fight though, he thought firmly. I can win. I can protect everyone. I can protect myself.

This time, huh?

He rested his head back against the stall, studying his own sad, round face, and he tried a tentative smile. Kaneki Ken looked so much like a little boy pining for approval. It made him sick and sad, and he wondered if he'd ever change.

He swiped his fingers through his dark hair, and he knew, of course, that he already had.

Touka's voice rung in his head, her vicious, thundering fury berating his skull.

Why?

She'd shouted and snarled and struck at him, her voice wavering on the brink of desperate sobs. She'd been so angry, so unbearably sad, and he knew that was his fault. He'd abandoned her because he wanted her to live her life, to do what was best for her and not for him. But even with all his good intentions he couldn't deny what he'd done. Abandonment. How utterly cruel of him.

Why did you have to change?

He wanted to see her again. He wanted to see her anger and her sadness and her joy, and he wanted to talk to her again, and not be scared of how much she hated him for that abandonment. He wanted his friend back. Could that be possible now? He was trying to recall if he'd ever even met Touka before he went on that awful date with Rize.

Of course he had, though, of course. He'd been a semi-regular customer at Anteiku long before he even met Rize.

Perhaps he was wrong. Perhaps this was all an elaborate hallucination, and perhaps he'd lost himself beyond salvaging. After all, it was difficult to trust his own eyes and his own ears and his own mouth sometimes.

Who was to say any of this unpalatable replay was real?

He moved closer to the mirror, reaching out tentatively and brushing the cool surface with dripping fingertips. He noted that his nails were stubby and uneven from anxiety forcing his teeth to cut them down to size. That was an old habit. Now he clipped his nails evenly, careful to keep them neat and trimmed. Proper nail care was important when you were prone to starting fights.

Touka had taught him that, actually.

He traced the roundness of his eyes, and he wondered why they looked so big and terrified. He wasn't scared, not really. Just… anxious. And really confused. He didn't want to believe that any of this was real, because all his senses were hazy, but the pain… the pain was vivid. What the hell was clawing into his stomach, anyway?

He lifted his shirt, blinking rapidly as his eyes fell upon the bandage taped to his stomach, curving between his navel and hipbone. He poked it gingerly, and promptly hissed, a great shot of pain enveloping his belly. He squeezed his eyes shut, and he tried to will this pain away, will it all away, will this wound to seal itself.

It did not.

"Shit," he muttered, thumbing at the adhesive keeping the bandage attached to him. He debated just ripping it off, but he knew he was making a slew of bad decisions, and considering how much his stomach hurt, he figured… yeah. Better not.

He tested his forehead to feel if he was feverish, but he was neither warm nor sweating, and so he ruled out fever dreams as an explanation. His hair was soft and fluffy, so unlike the coarse, dead strands that had hung limply about his brow previously. He'd forgotten what healthy hair felt like.

When he was just about sick of his own reflection, he poked his head out the door to make sure no one was there waiting for him. He was really anxious all of a sudden. If he wasn't healing, then that meant he was vulnerable, and that was irritating. What if this was all just an elaborate trick? He honestly didn't think he was in any condition to fight anyone.

Like, he would, of course. He just wasn't sure how effective his efforts would be.

He made his way tentatively down the hall, his eyes darting around anxiously. He knew he appeared more relaxed than he felt, because… how could he not? He felt like he was going to start ripping out his hair by the single strands, like he was gonna start picking holes in his skin just to keep himself from having a panic attack.

"Um," he said, heading up to a desk. He waved awkwardly, and the woman who sat there simply stared. Maybe she'd heard already what he'd done to Kanou. Her eyes were a little large, and he could see the glimmer of uncertainty in her expression. He smiled sheepishly. "Hi. Can I go home?"

Her eyebrows rose in alarm, and he pressed his lips together as he averted his eyes nervously. Was that honestly such a weird request? Ah, maybe he'd phrased it wrong.

"I mean," he said quickly, leaning forward and placing his hands on the desk, "can I have my discharge papers? And shoes?"

"It doesn't really work like that," she said slowly.

"How does it work, then?" It had been awhile since he'd last been to a hospital, and honestly it had all been such a blur.

"Well your doctor needs to clear you first," she said, swiveling her chair toward her computer. "What's your name?"

He chewed on the inside of his cheek. His hesitance didn't go unnoticed, and she glanced at him sharply.

"Look," he sighed, drumming his fingers rapidly against the desk. He looked up at the ceiling. "I know this isn't how you do things. But I really need to go home."

"Your name?"

He slumped. She was glaring at him now. "Kaneki Ken," he murmured, watching his pale, stubby nails tap at the surface of the desk. "But—"

"You're cleared to go," the woman cut in, sliding a clipboard over the desk. Kaneki leaning back in shock, his fingertips freezing mid-beat. He gaped at her. Then he snatched the clipboard, arching over it and filling in all the necessary information. His handwriting was really messy from his haste, his characters all screwy in places, but he really didn't give a fuck at this point. He needed to get out of this place and breathe some fresh air. Figure out what the fuck was happening.

"Thanks," he said, sliding the clipboard back at her. She eyed him warily, but gave him a polite little nod anyway, which he was grateful for. He stood at the desk for a few moments after she reviewed his papers, staring at her expectantly. He felt really silly, like a child waiting for permission to perform a menial task. She raised her eyes to him, shooting a dull, inquisitive glance. He found himself blushing in spite of himself. "Um!" He smiled at her apologetically. "My… my shoes…?"

This time she looked apologetic.

"Oh," she gasped, blinking very fast, as though it hadn't occurred to her that he was currently barefoot. "I don't think your clothing survived the accident, but your shoes should be in your room."

"Right." He pushed off the desk and called over his shoulder as an afterthought, "Thank you!"

Okay, so shoes. Shoes, outside, and then… and then what?

Oh shit. He had to go back to his apartment.

That was so weird. Maybe he could just make a beeline for Anteiku instead?

He was really confused, and he honestly just wanted to… lie down for a little while… maybe…

Maybe his old apartment wouldn't be so bad.

I'll go to the apartment, he thought, tiptoeing back into his room. I'll shower and sleep a little, and then I'll go to Anteiku. There was no nurse, so it felt safe to start shuffle through things. He found his shoes sitting on a radiator, and he dropped them onto the tile as he craned his neck to get a better look at the room.

He found his phone sitting on a little bedside table. He adjusted the backs of his shoes, eying it with some degree of distrust. Hadn't he thrown that thing away months ago?

He'd already forgotten about the whole déjà vu thing. What was he going to do if this wasn't a hallucination? If there was no waking up from this?

Then, he realized in a jolt of shock, I can stop all of it before it begins. I could save Anteiku.

He could save Anteiku!

Hope enveloped his chest in a warm, lightweight blanket, and he found himself smiling. This was good. This could be a really good thing!

He scooped up his phone and marched out the door. Hope was bouncing like a little boat buoying amidst a savage monsoon. All his emotions were clashing at once to attack that little shred of light inside him, waves snapping their iron maws and spitting upon the beating sails, sour and briny as it refused to settle.

It was dimming outside. His stomach hurt, and hope was clinging for its life as anxiety clapped like thunder inside his skull, doubt falling upon him in bullet-sheets, fear knifing through him like mid-winter wind, and this all culminated upon the mast of lightheartedness with a claw-like wave of instability. He couldn't hold himself upright, and therefore his hope was lost to the sea of despair that was welling up inside him.

How could he believe something like… like time travel? Was that what this could be called? Returning to his body when it'd been weak and fragile and spotless.

Wait, was that it? Was his body so shaky and achy because it hadn't been tempered into steel?

Ah. What could he even do to remedy that? He certainly did not want to be tortured again.

People were looking at him strangely as he walked. The warm air was kissing his bare arms, and a light breeze shuffled with his hair. The day was unwinding before him, the scent of pavement cooling and car exhaust filling his nostrils, and it was the barest of comforts.

His pocket began to buzz, and he jumped, standing at an intersection near his apartment. All the walking he'd done had drained him of energy, but his stomach wasn't hurting so much anymore. When he yanked his phone out of his pocket, it was still buzzing.

Multiple texts at once.

Hide, he thought, his stomach tying in knots.

Terror wailed in his ears, crooning like a witch's lullaby and lashing his cheeks like the bite of a whip. Tears welled up in his eyes.

Hide.

Hide!

He'd forgotten about Hide!

There was no wondering or supposing or puzzling out why Hide had been pushed out of his mind.

He did not question it.

The monsoon of clashing emotions was crushed down by an iron fist. The battered ship which had housed all his hope bobbed on the surface of his mind, and it was guided gently into safety.

Hide… Hide was where it had to start.

He had to fix all his mistakes. And Hide had been the first of a very long line of missteps.

He didn't even bother with checking the texts. He just went ahead and called him.

The tone rung for a bit. That gave Kaneki time to ease up the stairs of his building.

There was a flutter of happiness toying in his knotted gut as the tone was cut off by a bright, booming voice.

"YOU'RE AWAKE!" Hide had shouted it so loudly that Kaneki had to twist the receiver from his ear, wincing as the sound rung against his eardrum and lingered there. "YO. Yo, yo, yo, yo, okay, sorry, I'm cool, I'm good. I can't believe you actually called. Holy shit. You missed me that much, huh? Ha!"

Kaneki took a deep, shaky breath. There were tears in his eyes. He was smiling like a fool as he leaned against a railing for support. Hearing Hide's voice was such an incredible relief.

He decided he did not care if this déjà vu world he'd awoken into was real or not.

This was exactly where he wanted to be.

Death be damned.

Chapter Text

Only an immensely stubborn person could choose not to learn from their mistakes.

It'd be easier to walk down a familiar path, beaten by his own feet, charted by his own hand, instead of darting into a great unknown. But what choice did he have when the familiar path ended in a pitfall?

He had to fix the mistakes of yesterday. And all that stared with Hide.

"Hey," he said, speaking in a hoarse voice, for his throat had constricted on its own accord. He cleared it hurriedly, taking quick strides toward his apartment door. He thumbed the mantle, reaching with rapidly drumming fingers to find the spare key he'd long since hidden. "Um… hi."

"You sound terrible," Hide remarked brightly. "Do you want me to head over there after class? I took a bunch of notes for you, since I know you'll tear your hair out trying to catch up, and I can bring you some real food, since I bed hospital grub is like, cookie cutter cardboard shit."

Hide hardly took a breath when he spoke. He had a loud, piercing voice that poured and overflowed like a guttering waterfall, roaring and sharp and unmistakably natural. No one could blame a waterfall for its volume, and that was just the way with Nagachika Hide.

Kaneki rested his forehead against his door, his eyes closed contentedly as he simply listened. It was a relief to hear his voice.

He was so safe and distant from all the horror. Did Kaneki really want to drag him into it?

Remember the alternative, a dark voice murmured from the back of his brain, the whisper shuddering like winter wind and spreading to the front of his head. His entire skull felt the chill. His eyes snapped open.

"Kaneki?" A slight spike of worry trickled into Hide's tone. "Don't worry about it, buddy, I can visit tomorrow or something, if it's too much right now."

"No, no, that's not it!" Kaneki snatched the key from the mantle, stumbling back from his door and taking a deep breath. "Sorry, I'm a little, um…" He ran his fingers through his hair, his eyes flashing around the hall. "Out of it…? I guess…? I don't think the morphine's fully gone away yet."

"Oh, so you're high? That explains it!" Hide barked a sharp, hearty laugh. "This is truly a momentous occasion! I've never had the pleasure of witnessing a high Kaneki Ken! Please, please, narrate the intricate details of your trip!"

"It's not that kind of high, Hide," Kaneki told him gently.

"Boo. You're so disappointing."

Kaneki found himself smiling, running his thumb over the surface of his house key. It was an incredible thing to speak to Hide so frivolously, free of anxieties and free of uncertainties. It was as though there had been a great divide between them before, and now Kaneki could experience the weightlessness of having a best friend again.

"So I've been told," he said, stepping up to his door to unlock it. "Listen, you can go ahead and visit me."

"Ah! Really? Awesome, I'll be at the hospital—"

"I'm not at the hospital," Kaneki cut in sharply, turning the key and pushing his door open. There was a blast of nostalgia upon the simple aroma of his old apartment hitting his nostrils. It wasn't any particularly strong scent. It just smelled familiar and distinct, as any home might. The vague dwelling of a college student always smells so very stale and warm, the fluctuation between underuse and overuse shooting lines on a heart monitor.

"Excuse me?" Hide's frown was so loud that it had an actual, legitimate sound. It sounded like a child's feet stomping impudently. "Where are you, then?"

"I went home."

"You went home? Hold on a minute, let me ring the dumbass bell!" Hide whistled three sharp, vicious little notes into Kaneki's ear. They pierced through his eardrum, and he winced from the shock of the pitch. "Ding, dong! Looks like we've got a total dummy on our hands! Time to initiate emergency protocol."

"I'm fine, Hide," Kaneki sighed. "Honestly, they wouldn't have let me go home otherwise."

"You were like, in a coma, bro, you do understand that, right?"

"And now I'm awake and in my living room." Kaneki kicked his door shut. A chill ran down his spine, for everything around him was so immaculately displaced, perfectly out of order, frozen in dishevelment. A dead boy had left his home one day without tidying, and there were traces of his life smeared across this pretty still life painting he'd walked into. Notes strewn about the table, a textbook fallen open on the floor, a backpack resting against a wall, open and overflowing with books and pens. There was a mug of half-drunk coffee resting on the table beside the strewn about notes, white film floating on the murky brown surface.

"Okay, just making sure." Hide's tone had changed from sarcastic to easygoing. "I'll be there soon, okay? I'm gonna skip my night class, so do you want me to pick something up? I can grab some snacks or a movie, or something."

"Don't skip class for me, Hide," Kaneki gasped, feeling mildly guilty, but also irritatingly pleased.

"Nah, don't worry, I've got a guy who'll let me copy his notes. So snacks? I can find that funky popcorn that you put on the stove, and it makes like a weather balloon before exploding, we could—"

"No, don't bring any food." Kaneki was sad. The mere idea that Hide was proposing, having a movie night and making popcorn and simply enjoying the company of the other, that sounded so sweet and normal and enticing, but it was impossible. "I'm… having trouble keeping stuff down right now."

"Oh. Right, no food then. I'm still renting a movie, though. Let's do a comedy! American, do you think? Oh, we could do older movies. Have you ever seen Citizen Kane?"

"Um, no."

"No? Rosebud? No?" He was saying things in English that made no sense to Kaneki, and at this point he was wondering if Hide was just throwing random English words together.

"Was it a book first?" Kaneki offered. "I might have heard of it if there was a book."

"You're hopeless." Hide scoffed. "I'm getting it. I'll enrich your cinema history. It's like one of the greatest films of all time."

"Okay…"

"Okay!" Hide sounded very pleased. "I'll be there soon. In case you're thinking of changing the locks before I get there."

"You don't have a key, so I don't see why that would matter."

"Oh. Do I not have a key?" Hide laughed nervously. "Of course. Of course, I mean it's, it's not like I had one made, or anything—!"

"Hide. What the hell?"

"It was a joke. Because you keep your spare key in the most obvious place." Hide sighed loftily. "I'm surprised you didn't get mortally wounded sooner, honestly."

"I'm hanging up," Kaneki said, though he didn't really want to.

"Fine, fine, I'll be there in a few." And then Hide hung up, leaving Kaneki feeling both giddy and horrified. Because now he had to deal with this. He had to deal with Hide. How strange that was, to actually confront him.

The first thing Kaneki did was grab the mug from the table and dump its contents out into the sink, for the scent of days old coffee was nauseating. He washed out the glass, noting the dirty dishes in the sink and cursing his past self for being so lazy and comfortable in his life that he didn't consider the possibility of being suddenly uprooted in the near future. Past Kaneki, he decided, was a total imbecile.

He wanted to shower, but he wasn't sure if he'd have time, since Hide was ungodly fast when he wanted to be. He was also keenly aware of his clothing, the powder blue hospital garb that someone had placed him in. He didn't like that. He didn't like the idea that someone had dressed him without his consent, even if it was necessary and inevitable.

His stomach was no longer hurting, which was mildly concerning. He'd been asleep for his transition into a ghoul, both figuratively and literally, but knowing now what he knew, everything felt out of place within him. Was it that he was unused to a human body?

Well, anyway. He'd deal with it. Even if this body was significantly weaker than the one he'd left behind, he could find a way around that. He had to, right? If he wanted to protect everyone.

As time ticked by, and he grew more anxious, he decided to shower for the sake of easing his nerves. He left the door unlocked and put a note on the coffee table, figuring that Hide, being Hide, would simply walk in if his knock was not answered within thirty seconds. He went to the bathroom, taking a spare pair of clothes with him, and peeled the flimsy hospital shirt off. His body was just as flimsy, but Kaneki saw more meat on his bones than he was used to. His ribs were barely visible. The bandage that covered his surgical scar also covered a healthy bit of fat, which had previously been hard muscle.

He decided to do away with that bandage. The scar was ugly and pink, stitches clinging to the taut flesh. He turned on the water, watching it gutter and spit from the showerhead, and he traced the scar idly. Scars. How foreign these things had become.

Showering proved to be for the best. He leaned into the hot water, relief tingling in his joints and his uncoiling muscles. He hadn't thought about it until now, until the solace of the steam and water pressure hit him, but he was sad. He was sad as hell. He didn't know what he was going to do. He was still living in disbelief, feeling that he might wake up to the horror of the Anteiku raid at any given moment.

Why am I back here, he wondered, and what am I supposed to do now?

Screaming would be nice. It'd settle his toiling thoughts and feelings. Yes. Screaming would be fantastic.

He didn't scream, though.

He just let the water do its job, and wash away the grime of today, of yesterday, and prepare him for the mud of tomorrow.

He exited the shower quickly, hearing someone moving around outside the bathroom door. That was his cue. He dried himself as hastily as he could, throwing his clothes on haphazardly. He didn't know what he was going to do with Hide. With… everything. This was just all so sudden, all so confusing, and he was not even remotely prepared.

"Yo, Kaneki!"

Hide was lounging on Kaneki's couch. He sat up as Kaneki exited the bathroom, waving in an idle but frantic manner.

"You look lively," he remarked, smiling big and bright and bold, his eyes lighting up so intensely that the corners of them crinkled from the strain.

"Do I?" Kaneki asked faintly. He didn't feel very alive right now. He didn't think it'd be particularly polite to ask if maybe, possibly, he was dead. It seemed to be the only explanation.

"Uh, no." Hide rolled his eyes, still beaming. "You honestly look really bad. A living corpse. You need to eat something."

"Never mind that." Kaneki tussled his hair with his towel, hoping it'd dry quickly. It was shorter than he was used to. "Hide… listen. I have to talk to you."

"Talk then?" Hide looked curious. As Kaneki stared at him, he began to realize that Hide…

Hide was someone that Kaneki had never understood.

If Nagachika Hideyoshi were a novel, he would be written by Ernest Hemingway. He was the theory of omission personified, and that was terrifying to behold.

How had Kaneki lived so long in this rotation without realizing he knew nothing about the sun he was circulating?

"What?" Hide tilted his head. "What's that look for?"

"Hm?" Kaneki blinked rapidly, and he laughed, scratching his chin. "I'm just glad to see you, that's all."

"Oh yeah?" Hide shot him a wicked grin. "You missed me. Admit it."

"I missed you," Kaneki said, dropping his hand to his side. He glanced up at the ceiling, anxiety knotting up in his stomach. He was making assumptions based on the future-past, presuming that Hide would take everything fine, that there would be no weirdness between that. That was foolish. "Hey, can you do me a favor?"

"Yeah, sure." Hide draped his arms over the side of the couch. "What do you want?"

Kaneki strode up to the couch so he was hovering over Hide, his shadow yawning and swallowing him up, from the dark roots of his hair to the dark dirt clinging to the soles of his sneakers.

"Hit me," he said, staring into the warm brown blend of Hide's eyes. "As hard as you possibly can."

Hide stared back, unblinking, unflinching, and he raised his chin in an odd form of defiance. He did not believe Kaneki was serious, or if he did, he found the request to be amusing.

"Oh?" He stretched his limbs, standing upright with a spring in his step. He glanced at Kaneki, and his lips quirked. "So, what? Who's…?" He said a name rapidly, something that might have been English if it were not garbled by his Japanese tongue. It made no sense to Kaneki, but Hide continued as though the name had come out clearly. "Because you didn't strike me as the type."

"What?"

"Fight Club." Hide's forehead pinched. "Did I say that right?"

"No." Kaneki averted his gaze, thinking hard. "Tyler Durden?"

"Oh, yeah! That guy! Brad Pitt." This name came out much more smoothly than the last.

"Brad Pitt?"

"Did you not watch the movie?" Hide groaned. "Are you serious, there's a book? I didn't know there was a book."

"I liked it better than the movie."

"You're so typical, Kaneki," Hide groaned. "This is just like you. Is the book any good?"

"I don't remember it very well, I read it in middle school." He ran his hand through his wet hair, considering Hide's words. "But yeah, I liked it. The ending was different, which is why I liked it better, I think. There was some finality to it that the movie didn't really deliver, though I guess exploding buildings just seemed like a better cinematic feat than a psych ward— please stop me at any time, I know I'm rambling."

"No, no." Hide was cupping his chin, his feigned interest too strong to ignore. He waved slowly. "You keep going. It's not like I'm gonna read the book. So wait, what happened at the end?"

"The narrator thought he died," Kaneki said slowly, "that he went to heaven, when in reality he was in a mental hospital."

I can sleep in heaven.

Kaneki would like to test that.

"Wow." Hide whistled low. "That's definitely something."

"Hide," Kaneki said, "I was serious. I want you to hit me."

"Why?"

"I just want to test something, okay?"

"Well, I mean, okay," Hide said, holding up his hands and smiling sheepishly. "But here's the thing, bro." He shrugged, a heavy lift of his shoulders signifying the guilt weighing on them. "I don't want to."

"Please?"

"You just got out of the hospital." Hide shook his head. "Is this really necessary? Didn't you want to tell me something? Oh crap, are you dying?"

"No, I'm not dying." I'm already dead. "Just hit me."

"Nah."

"Hide!"

"Kaneki," he mocked.

Okay, so Kaneki was getting mildly irritated. It was a familiar irritation, which he knew he often felt toward Hide. But Kaneki didn't know what to do. Could he punch himself, see what would happen? No, it wouldn't have the same effect. He couldn't punch himself with enough force.

"I don't want to make you," Kaneki said desperately.

Hide's eyes brightened with curiosity, and his eyebrows arched. "Can you do that?" he asked. "No, no, this I want to see. How could you make me punch you?"

Kaneki sighed. Right. So it came down to this, then?

He took a deep breath. He feared his throat might constrict. And then he began.

"Why are you my friend?" he asked in the cool, vacant voice he'd once used on Madam A, the bite true and clear behind his words. "We're nothing alike. Or are we? You must know me pretty well. That's nice. I don't know you at all, I don't think. I don't know why you stick around me, and I don't know why you put up with me, because I'm needy and selfish— or maybe that's exactly why, because you're just the same. Is that your secret? Am I wrong? Are we nothing alike, or are we everything alike? No." He stuck his index finger in Hide's face as he opened his mouth to object. "Don't answer. Listen. I don't want an answer for the reason why you are the way you are— you couldn't possibly answer that, could you? Could you tell me why you're so incredibly friendly and charismatic, but you keep everyone at a distance? Why do you do that? Why did you stay away? Why not come talk to me? I don't understand you. I don't think I've ever understood you a day in my life. That's scary. Would you believe I'm scared of you? I think that's something that should have been apparent. I was terrified of you. I see you, but what I see is completely different from what is really there. Why is that? I'm a liar, yeah, I know that. You know that too. You know exactly how fake I am, but I wonder, do you even realize that you're just as fake?"

He took a breath, tears stinging his eyes. Hide had raised a hand. Kaneki closed his eyes, praying, praying for the blow. He needed it more than he needed nourishment after this outpour of intermingled truths and lies.

Hide's hand rested gently on Kaneki's cheek, and his eyes snapped open. Hide smiled sadly.

"Yes," he admitted. "I thought that was why we were so close. You really are a dummy, aren't you?"

The tears were licking Kaneki's lashes, and he couldn't stand it. He didn't know how Hide could be so calm in the face of so many accusations. Kaneki's words were hurtful and spiteful and they were thorns grinding against his larynx. Why was Hide so calm, then?

"Damn it, Hide," Kaneki gasped, whirling away and dashing his tears away as he moved lethargically toward his kitchenette. "I didn't want to do this."

"I'm sorry my pacifism has inconvenienced your dramatic flair," Hide remarked thickly, his words a little slurred. Perhaps he was as close to tears as Kaneki was. Perhaps Kaneki's words had hit him, but Hide was just… Hide was just not the type of person Kaneki was after all.

That probably made sense. Hide was an iceberg, after all, according to Hemingway's theory of omission. And Kaneki didn't think he reached that depth. No, he was the Titanic. All boast of invincibility. Unsinkable until, of course, fate set his course toward a headlong collision.

Kaneki snatched a knife from a drawer, the kind of kitchen knife used for chopping peppers and meat. Hide's eyes widened considerably. Yeah, that was to be expected. Kaneki had been holding back the throttle of his mind, but now he just wanted to prove something, and there was nothing more dangerous than a man with everything to prove.

"Kaneki," Hide said weakly. "Buddy. I got what you were trying to do. With the whole calling me out on my shit thing. That's why I didn't punch you. I might have, really, I almost did, but I figured it out."

"Because you know me so well," Kaneki said coldly.

"Well, quite frankly, yeah!" Hide took a few careful strides forward, eying the knife bemusedly. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't visit you at the hospital. I should have. Is that what this is about?"

"No." Kaneki didn't know why that would be an issue. Hide was probably just making assumptions based on accusations for actions he did not even commit yet. Or, rather, lack of action. Theory of omission. Kaneki was pretty good at that too. Was he not avoiding the truth now?

"Then I haven't got a clue." Hide threw his hands up in defeat. "You got me. I'm speechless. Holy shit, Kaneki, did you get me. I really have no idea what's going on!"

"Is that a first for you?"

"What is with you?" Hide's nose wrinkled as though he'd just bitten into rotten fruit. "So what, I don't say what I'm thinking all the time, is that a crime now?"

"This honestly isn't about that, Hide," Kaneki murmured, looking down at his feet. "I'm sorry, none of that… none of it had anything to do with anything. I was just trying to make you mad."

"You just made me sad, you know."

Kaneki nodded. He figured. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice thick from unshed tears. He met Hide's eye, and he smiled tremulously. "I'll explain. Just… just give me a moment." And so he lifted his shirt up, déjà vu delivering the punch Hide had withheld as he closed his teeth around the hem and clutched the handle of the knife with both hands.

"Kaneki, what the fuck are you doing?"

So, truthfully, Kaneki didn't know what was going to happen. He figured he might have transitioned enough to have a ghoul body. But hardly even a few hours ago his abdomen had been on fire from post-surgery pain.

He couldn't say if he was a ghoul or not. If he was alive or not.

Schrödinger's ghoul.

Hide's cry of shock and fear collided with the strident sound of metal bending. Kaneki felt no pain as the knife struck his stomach. He let his shirt fall from between his teeth, and he admired the deformed metal with dull interest.

It was almost a disappointment.

He bowed his head, feeling so ashamed for all his cruel words and all his thoughtless actions. He had done this for Hide's benefit, to help him better comprehend, to make everything clearer, but there were things that he knew were better off said than shown, and this communication block between them had already hurt their friendship enough.

Hide was suddenly before him, his mouth wide open in a gape, his finger pointed toward the twisted knife.

"That both the coolest and most terrifying thing you've ever done," he gasped.

"Um…" Kaneki glanced down at the knife. "I…" He took a quick step back, shooting Hide an irritated glance. "Why do you take everything so well?"

"I don't know." Hide blinked rapidly, and he offered a meager little shrug. "Why do you take everything so seriously?"

This was frustrating. But also somewhat relieving. Hide, it seemed, was not one to get upset easily. Anger seemed to be a foreign emotion to him.

"I just… tried to stab myself…"

"Obviously not very well." Hide tilted his head. "Though, I mean, the whole metal bending thing is weird, I'll admit it."

"Hide, this is what I wanted to tell you." Kaneki set the twisted knife aside, Hide's eyes following it sharply. He looked like he wanted to take it and examine it more closely, but he restrained himself. "I just… I wasn't sure if you'd believe me without some proof."

"Are you Superman?" Hide asked brightly.

"Hide." Kaneki sighed very deeply, turning his eyes toward the ceiling. "Rize… was a ghoul."

Hide stared vacantly. He had no response, so Kaneki decided to continue.

"She was a ghoul, and Dr. Kanou put her organs inside me," he said, folding his arms gingerly across his stomach. His voice was shaking. Hide's voice was ringing inside his head. Dude, I knew the whole time.

Hide looked at him, his bright face seeming to dim a bit. He rested his hand against the countertop, leaning heavily upon it as he stared pensively somewhere beyond Kaneki's face. That made him nervous, the sight of Hide actually thinking instead of just spouting his usual nonsense.

Then Hide's eyes flashed staidly to Kaneki's.

"Who else knows about this?" he asked.

Kaneki was taken aback. This was the first time Hide was reacting somewhat normally to the odd situation, and this was frankly the scariest thing to happen all day. He couldn't think of the right words to say, his eyes darting from Hide's face as he tried to summon up his mind from the depths of his anxiety, which had swallowed it whole.

"Just… just you, I think," Kaneki stammered. "And, um, Dr. Kanou, obviously."

"So he was aware that Miss Rize was a ghoul when he performed the operation?"

"Yes…?" Kaneki had never seen Hide sound so flat and emotionless before. Was this the thing that he'd been hiding? Was this why Hide hadn't confronted Kaneki about anything? Was this the Hide behind the mask?

Hide raised his face. And he smiled.

Kaneki found himself relaxing. No. Hide was not that kind of person.

"That's good," Hide said. He reached out, and he clapped Kaneki on the shoulder. "Don't tell anyone else."

"Hide, that's…" Kaneki had not considered that maybe isolationism would be the best way to go on this new path. He didn't want to close himself off. He wanted to go back to Anteiku after this Hide situation was dealt with.

"We don't really know how the surgery has affected your body, beyond like, the rock solid abs thing." Hide pressed his lips together thinly, his brow furrowed in deep thought. "We should test this stuff out, first, before we take any extreme measures."

"Hide." Kaneki lifted Hide's hand from his shoulder, and he forced Hide to look him in the eye. There was a surprising amount of unwavering determination there. "I am a ghoul. I can't eat normal food anymore, it tastes disgusting. I have a kagune."

"A kagune?"

He didn't sound quite as surprised as Kaneki would have expected.

"It's like… another limb, something that ghouls use to defend themselves." He shrugged weakly. "I haven't had the chance to really test it out yet."

"Well, shit, Kaneki!" Hide cried, his eyes glowing brightly as he took a few long strides back. "What are you waiting for? Let's see it!"

"Are you joking?"

"No. I wish you would've shown me that first, instead of trying to get me to punch you. You're so dramatic."

Obediently, Kaneki rolled up the back of his shirt, willing Rize's rinkaku to slither out from its hiding place at the hollow of his spine. He could hear it click and snap at his skin, hissing upon release and curling defensively around him. He stared at gleaming red scales, and he noted that there were only two arms, when there should have been four. Perhaps he was not powerful enough just yet.

"Oh, wow!" Hide's eyes glittered with wonder. "That's amazing! And you can move them and stuff, like any old limb?"

"Yes." He let the kagune rise and fall, a little waving motion that made Hide laugh. "There should be more than two, though…"

"Hm?" Hide frowned, and then he continued to laugh. "Oh, well I wouldn't worry too much. I'll bet you're just tired. Or hungry."

Kaneki's gut twisted at the suggestion of hunger. Hide spoke of it so flippantly, it was almost as if the idea of Kaneki consuming human flesh was beyond his comprehension.

"Also, is that eye thing permanent? Or is it only when you use your kagune?"

Kaneki's finger flew to his eye, feeling the protrusion of veins along the crinkling corner, and he swallowed hard. "It's not permanent," he said quietly, "but I can wear an eye patch to be safe."

"No, don't do that if you don't have to. You'll just stick out." Hide shook his head, and he leaned his back against Kaneki's counter. "What we need to worry about now is food. I don't know how we're going to manage it, but I'll think of something."

"What?" Kaneki blurted, his heart stuttering in shock of what Hide was implicating. "Hide, that isn't your problem!"

"You're trusting me with this secret, aren't you?" Hide glanced at him with large eyes. "Of course it's my problem. Are you honestly planning on doing this alone, and potentially murdering someone?"

"I won't do that!"

"Of course you won't," Hide said firmly. "I won't let you."

"And what are you going to do?" Kaneki banished his kagune, marching up to him and scowling. "You're human, and you don't know a thing about ghouls!"

"And you do?" Hide's voice was thin and mocking.

Kaneki couldn't respond. It was one thing to tell Hide that he was a ghoul, but to tell Hide that he'd come from the future was a bit much. There was no explaining that to anyone, and Kaneki knew it.

Hide hummed, nodding slowly in a little bounce of his head. "I thought not," he said. "Like I said, I'll think of something. Until then, please." He kicked off Kaneki's counter, moving with a strong, deliberate gait. "Don't do anything rash."

"Hide," Kaneki said in a small, weak voice. "Who do you think I am?"

Hide smiled. He laughed.

Because he knew Kaneki would not listen to a word he said.

When Hide left, Kaneki was left to his own devices. He wasn't sure what had just happened, but it left him feeling pretty hollow, and that was annoying because he'd hoped that telling Hide would fix everything bad, but it just… it hadn't. And now Kaneki didn't know what to do.

He sat on his bed for a little while, his knees pressed up against his chest and his mouth buried into them. His hair had dried by now, and it curled across his brow, wispy and thick. He didn't feel like combing it.

Hide was a complete mystery. That was becoming exceedingly apparent, and Kaneki's mind kept winding back to all those harsh words he'd said, and how Hide had just shrugged it off, and that was so confusing because Hide was too damn rational! Anyone else would have attacked him.

Hell, Touka would have made him eat dirt if he'd even dared to speak a word against her.

Touka…

He turned his face toward the clock. It was late. Nearly midnight. Did he dare? Did he truly want to tempt fate any further than he already had today?

Um. Yes.

He threw his legs over the side of his bed, fumbling for his sneakers and jamming his feet into them. He fled his apartment, making his way into the darkened streets with an unbelievable haste. He ran, his sneakers clapping against the sidewalks and his breath beating against the gentle thrum of Tokyo's midnight sounds. Cities didn't sleep. Cars were still blurring past, music was still trickling from windows and open doors, people were still congregating on street corners, and Kaneki passed them all by with a great resolve. The wind hit his face, and he followed a familiar path, winding between buildings with ease.

When he made it to the alleyway behind Anteiku, he doubled over and panted, his stomach cramping up from the length of the run. This body was so frail and weak and out of shape, not to mention the strain of the surgery scar. Kaneki felt the string of his stitches pulling taut, threatening to snap.

So he leaned against a wall, breathless and teary eyed, trying to swallow down the drumming of his heart in his throat.

It was well past midnight now, and Anteiku should've closed up about an hour ago. Touka might not even be awake.

Just to spite him, fate struck him once more. The back door of Anteiku opened, and Kirishima Touka shouldered through the threshold, dragging a garbage bag behind her. She didn't seem to notice him at first, moving sluggishly toward a trashcan. She tossed the bag into it, the resounding crash causing Kaneki to jump. Her eyes flashed toward him.

They were both very still. City sounds blanketed their silence as stars might blanket the vacuity of space.

"No loitering," she said flatly, turning her face from him. "Scram."

"Wait," he said, moving into the light of the single lamp beside Anteiku's door. It splashed across his face, and she eyed him warily. "I need help."

She squinted at him. And he stared at her. Her silence cut him deep, cut him swift and sharp, cut him to the bone and rung in his head as it bled him out.

He'd forgotten how beautiful and brutal this girl could be.

She turned fully to face him, and shadows swept over her round, smooth face. There was a darkness to her eyes, a hollowness to her gaze that Kaneki was not used to. She stared through him. She felt nothing. She regarded him as she might regard a telephone pole. Acknowledgement only in avoidance. She'd round about him to avoid collision, and then promptly forget his existence.

And he looked at her as though he were a child gazing upon a total solar eclipse. He could not know how dangerous and blinding beauty was.

He was always weak in the face of beautiful things.

"So?" She lifted her chin haughtily. Ah, how proud she was. Kaneki had forgotten. "What do you want me to do?"

"Help me."

"You don't look desperate enough to want my help." She rolled her eyes. "Take my advice. Go home."

"I can't." He saw her eyes shift in the darkness, wary and wild, dark and deadly. She would crush him if he overstepped, if he came too close, if he uttered the wrong word. And then she took a look at him, and her face transformed.

"You," she said, her eyes widening in shock. Kaneki felt a jolt of hope run through him, misguided as it was. "You're dead."

He didn't reply. To reply, either way, would be a lie.

So he exhaled, and the city echoed back with breaths of life circulating through vacated streets. Touka didn't seem to know what to do or say, which was refreshing. Finally. Someone else at a loss.

She leaned forward, squinting at him as though perhaps she had missed something upon the first few times she'd scrutinized him. Slowly, she began a predatory movement, circling him round and round. He followed her gaze, turning with her, and feeling that she was moving to an imaginary orchestra, her heels barely scraping the ground, her ankles crossing and uncrossing. She was slender and quick footed, a dancer if Kaneki had ever seen one.

"You should be dead," she told him, stopping less than a meter from him, so close that her familiar scent burned his nose. He knew her scent as he might know Hide's, a familiar onslaught of ground coffee beans overpowering flowery perfume. "Why didn't Rize kill you?"

"She definitely tried." He stared into her face, wondering if he had any expression on his own. "Do you believe me now? That I need your help?"

"No." Her voice was as biting as ever. She was consistently chafing against him, resisting any temptation to be comfortable in his presence. She would rather break her own back than show him a glimmer of weakness. It was something he sorely admired. "I don't know who you are, and I don't care. Go back to wherever the hell you came from." And she whirled away, marching toward the door, ready to abandon him.

His heart thudded in his throat, and he wished he could rid himself of it, because it was screwing with his head.

"I guess all ghouls are the same, huh?" His voice was dislocated from his body. He was shaky, frightened, but his voice was cold and vicious. It struck her visibly, snapping at her back, leaving a long, thin whiplash upon her spine. Her face turned sharply, dangerously poised against her left shoulder as her eyes grew shadowy and dark.

"What the hell would you know about ghouls?" she spat.

He stared at her. He bowed his head, and he took a shaky breath. "Nothing," he said. It was only half a lie. "But I know one thing. Someone put Rize's organs in me." He raised his head, and he took a short step toward her. "I am not going to pretend like I can keep living in ignorance, that ghouls do not exist, when right now I am one."

Her brow furrowed. She was looking at him now with less contempt, and more openness. The shadow over her eyes lifted, and when she looked at him, there was a hint of curiosity there. She looked at him from sneakers to tussled hair, a quick, judging gaze.

He had spoken deliberately to not offend her, as he had the first time.

"Humans can't just become ghouls," she said.

"It's possible, and it happened." He bit the inside of cheek, noting how annoyed she looked. "I can't eat humans when I am human. I can't do that."

"Then you're not a ghoul," she said briskly. "And if you're not a ghoul, then I can't help you."

"But I am a ghoul," Kaneki gasped. "I can't eat human food, but I can't eat humans either. What am I supposed to do?"

She glanced at him, her eyelids half-folding over her eyes.

"Starve," she said simply.

He stood, feeling the return of her disdain as it fell upon him in rapid bursts. She was glowering fiercely. How she hated, how fiercely and totally, without any form of pity, was something he had imitated in another life. But now he was back to being Kaneki Ken, lowly and powerless.

"I'd like to talk to the manager," he said.

For the first time, she was utterly taken aback. Her mouth dropped open, and her shoulders tensed up, and she took a step back.

"Why?" she asked.

"Because I need help," he said coolly, brushing past her. "And you clearly have something against humans." That wasn't true, of course. He knew it wasn't true. But he liked the way it hit her, the way it made her bristle.

"Excuse me?" Her voice had heightened considerably in pitch, and he blinked as she snatched him by the arm, her grip so rough and heavy that the pressure of her fingertips bruised the tender skin of his bicep. He stumbled to a stop, nearly head-butting her by accident. "You've been a ghoul for all of what, five minutes? And you think you can just come to me, and fucking assume that you know even an ounce of what life as a ghoul is like?" She threw him against Anteiku's door, and his spine collided painfully with the wood, a hollow sound echoing through the alley. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

He grimaced a bit from the pain, rubbing his arm where her fingers had imprinted themselves. "You can call me Kaneki," he offered, hoping it sounded less sarcastic and more amiable.

"Fuck you, Kaneki." She walked up to him, ease in her step, and she lifted her chin high. "Fuck your rotten luck, and fuck your condescending nonsense. Do you honestly figure you're something fucking special? That because you were born human, that the laws of being a ghoul somehow exclude you? Go crawl back beneath the fucking rock you squirmed out of."

"If you feel that way," Kaneki whispered, "then why don't you go ahead and eat a ghoul?"

She stood stock straight, looking as though he'd just struck her.

"I don't think I'm better than you, Touka," he told her gently. "I just can't consciously eat my own kind."

Her mouth fell open. Her eyes were so furious, he thought she was going to attack him again. Luckily the door opened behind him, and he stumbled forward, to keep himself from crashing into the trash can.

Kaneki felt his face light up as he came face to face with Yoshimura. He was peering into the darkened alley, looking upon Touka with a mild expression.

"I heard a struggle," he said. He turned his face toward Kaneki, who'd managed to school his expression quickly. "Is there a problem?"

"No, sir," Touka said through gritted teeth. "Just taking out the trash."

Kaneki knew Touka well enough to understand that was some particularly dark shade thrown at him.

"Excuse me, sir," Kaneki said, stepping between him and Touka. He could feel her glaring at his back, the intensity of her stare making his stomach knot up. "Can I speak to you? Privately?"

Yoshimura's eyebrows rose, but he smiled amiably, and he nodded. "Of course. Come with me." He gestured into the depths of Anteiku, and Touka scoffed behind Kaneki. "Touka, if you are done then I suggest you go to bed. It's very late, and you shouldn't be on duty."

"I offered," she said defensively.

"That's all very well, but you should still get some rest."

When Kaneki glanced back at her, her jaw was set and her shoulders were squared. She brushed past them both, her fists clenched at her sides, and Kaneki watched her sadly.

He'd hated this part, assuming that Touka hated him. He wanted to skip to the part where they were on friendly terms, and he didn't take her harsh words so seriously.

"Don't take Touka's behavior to heart," Yoshimura said, holding the door open for Kaneki to step inside. "I can assure you it's not personal."

"Right."

Yoshimura led him to a row of refrigerators, as he had the first time, and Kaneki watched him pull out a small package of meat. It wasn't Kaneki's intention to start eating humans, but he also had the intention of becoming strong. And he wasn't in the position to be hunting ghouls to eat.

"Let's give you one package for now." Yoshimura turned, offering out the carefully packaged human meat. "Come back when you need to. There's no need to be shy."

"I'm actually not…" Kaneki stared at the package weakly. Yoshimura watched him from beneath heavily lidded eyes. Kaneki sighed, and he took the package. If only to be polite. "Um… would it be okay if I asked you a few questions?"

"Of course." Yoshimura closed the fridge door, and turned completely to face him. "I'm sure you have many misgivings, but I assure you no one was murdered for the sake of your dinner."

"Ah." Kaneki couldn't very well say he knew that already, so he nodded. "Okay, that's… that's good to know…" He glanced down at his feet. He didn't know why he was so nervous. He knew Yoshimura. But… Yoshimura didn't know him. No one knew him. That was awful. "Is eating humans the only way? Can't I find nutrition from an outside source?"

"It is the only way," Yoshimura confirmed gravely. "I'm sorry. I understand that this is difficult for you. But you are a ghoul now. Kaneki, was it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Well, Kaneki," Yoshimura said, smiling down at him. "You need nothing to fear. Anteiku will provide for you as long as you need."

"Thank you," he said politely. "That means… that means a lot…" He took a deep breath. He was thinking about the Anteiku raid again, how… how badly things had ended up… and what could he do now to stop that? What could he do differently? He had no idea what events had even caused it to happen, so how could he prevent it?

"You seem to have a lot on your mind." Yoshimura tilted his head. "Why don't you come back tomorrow, and we'll discuss this matter further. We'll have to integrate you into ghoul culture somehow, or else you'll be walking blind."

"That's a good idea." Kaneki sounded very sad, and he could tell that Yoshimura noticed, because he opened his eyes, and watched Kaneki with pity in his gaze.

"It will not always be so terrible," Yoshimura said gently. "I promise, Kaneki. You will live a normal life."

"Thank you, sir."

His words sounded so hollow. Thank you, thank you, thank you. How many times could he say it? Not nearly enough. There was no amount of gratitude that could suffice to this man.

Yoshimura walked him out, but Kaneki found himself faltering at the door. He turned to face the man, and he clutched the little package tightly in his fists.

"I am ghoul," he said firmly, "but I'm also human. You know that. You accept it. So then, do you think it's possible… do you think humans and ghouls could find peace with each other?"

Yoshimura stared at him, his wizened face carved from the shadows of the closed down coffee shop. And he gave Kaneki a wide little smile, patting him gently on the shoulder.

"We who are peace-minded dwell on the sidelines, watching those with power wage wars we cannot end. And to end such a great conflict, I could only assume great sacrifice must be made." Yoshimura shrugged. "But then again, I stand for the refugees, for those who cannot help themselves. I cannot say what it would take to end a battle, so much as the entire war."

He speaks so well, Kaneki thought, staring up at the man in absolute awe.

"I don't think sacrifice is the answer," Kaneki said softly. "If this is a war, then it's on a social scale too. So that's… that's where I come in." He straightened up, his eyes widening. "I'm not solely human, and not solely ghoul. I'm both. I get the privilege of being both. So couldn't I speak for both factions?" Kaneki stared, not at Yoshimura, not at Anteiku's interior, but into a great expanse of possibilities unfolding before him.

Last time he'd gotten it all wrong.

He'd tried to fight this war on the battle's stage. He'd focused all his energy on playing his part, not even realizing that he was just a piece in the play. He needed to look behind the curtain. There was no debut for the actor this time, for he had to work behind the scenes.

Yoshimura looked surprised.

"You could try," he said in his soft, grandfatherly voice.

And Kaneki felt his heart break.

Because he could not return to Anteiku.

He could not put such a beautiful place on the frontlines, not again. Not when he'd seen the destruction his presence had caused. Because after all, what had led the doves to Anteiku? The Owl. Why did they track down the Owl? Because he'd shown up at the Aogiri raid. Why had he been at the Aogiri raid?

He'd been rescuing Kaneki.

This was for the best.

And so, with a heavy heart, he left Anteiku. He waited a few blocks before throwing away the human meat, tearing open the package so that some desperate ghoul might fish it out. He walked slowly, the city sounds beginning to die down from a thrum to a murmur, and his feet scraped heavily on the pavement. He was exhausted. He was exhausted and lost, and that was leading him down an uncertain path.

He could try.

Wasn't it better that he try, then? If he could save Anteiku, then he would. He'd do whatever he had to do to keep Anteiku from the doves.

So that was that, then.

Kaneki paused outside a tall building that Touka had once dragged him into. That had been a different life. Would Touka even know him now? Aside from that first impression, which though not as bad as the last was still pretty awful? He didn't want to stay away from her, but did he have a choice? Could he be her friend without being at Anteiku?

He walked into the building, feeling suddenly violently uncomfortable. He immediately wanted to walk right out. He stood for a moment, swaying in the doorway, and he glanced around the deserted entrance. It was probably nearing two in the morning. There was no one really there, except a clerk at a desk. She looked up upon his entering, their eyes meeting, and she looked honestly confused. She probably was not used to seeing people on her shifts.

He walked toward her, a little unsteadily. She watched him in silence, and did not smile when he reached her desk.

"Hello," she said. "Are you lost?"

"No." Kaneki swallowed hard. He glanced around the entrance, his eyes falling on a bulletin board. Then they swiveled toward the tall entryway beside the desk, which he knew to be the RC detector. "Um, is there any way I could speak to an investigator?"

"There's no one really here this late," the woman said cautiously. "Would you like to file a report?"

"No," he said. He looked at her, and he could hear Hide's voice clawing through his brain, vicious talons carving up his lying mind. Don't do anything rash.

"Then what brings you to the CCG?" the woman asked.

Kaneki's heartbeat accelerated as he understood the very real danger he was placing himself in.

But this was an option he'd never thought to explore before.

For Anteiku, he thought.

"My name is Kaneki Ken," he said hoarsely, leaning heavily against the desk. "A few days ago, I was… I was involved in an accident. Metal beams fell. A girl was killed, and her organs were transplanted without consent into the boy that was there. I'm sure you heard of it." He paused for her wary nod, but didn't wait for any other reply. "That girl was a ghoul. That boy was me. I used to be human, but now I'm a ghoul, and I… I need help. Please. Can you help me?"

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, there had been a makeshift classroom in the basement of Kaneki's school. The walls had been made of cement blocks, off white paint filling up gaping pores in the simple design. The children had sat in uncomfortable wooden desks, carved up by generations past with pens and pencils, names and phrases scrawled across backrests in jerky kanji. There had been a single black board, a desk at the front for the teacher, and no light but a dim, fading light bulb that hung limply from the ceiling.

Kaneki had often lamented to Hide, who had the privilege of not having that particular class, that the classroom had the atmosphere of a prison.

Stale air, stale light, no character to liven up the cold, bare walls. Every class had felt like a day serving up a sentence. It had been a terrible class, and not even Kaneki had been able to keep up with the low droning of his elderly, stammering teacher.

He'd begun to mark off the days on the backrest of the desk in front of him. The days until he'd be free of the terrible, stifling basement, of the flickering yellow light bulb and the naked white cement walls.

This prison felt the same.

As far as he could tell, from the tallies he'd made on the wall behind his bed with the point of a hairpin, he'd been in this cell for about a week. Possibly longer, considering he'd only added one day between procuring the pin and waking up. It was quiet, a perpetual drone of buzzing silence that vibrated in the front of his brain, a pile of bees agitating the wounds of the past. The space behind his eyes, which should have been hollow from the damage done by that damn dove.

There were doves here. Lots of them. They were the ones who passed a weird, slurpy concoction through a slot in his door. They did not come in, but he knew it was them who took him away in his sleep, because when he woke up he had a strange aching feeling around the inside of his elbow. When he rubbed the sensitive skin, thumbing the thin flesh above vibrant blue veins, he felt nothing. But he knew better. They must have taken a gallon of blood from him for any pain to linger.

He busied himself in the only way he could. He did pushups, sit-ups, and stretched himself a whole lot, like how Touka had taught him. By the seventh day of captivity he was trying to flip off walls. He landed in hilarious little heaps, so he moved his bed so he might land on it instead. That softened the blows a little.

He knew he was being watched, but he was bored, and this was a really good chance to build up the strength he'd lost.

Hide must be worried, he thought more than once.

Kaneki did a full flip off the wall eight days into his captivity. He stumbled a little, his feet dragging against the cool floor. And then a great laugh bubbled in his chest. He pumped his fist into the air excitedly, bouncing on his heels and grinning broadly to himself. If he could flip, he could fight head to head against both ghouls and doves.

By the tenth day, he could do a one armed handstand for a minute and a half.

His door slid open in the middle of such an exercise, and his focus broke. He yelped as he crashed to the floor, curling up above his throbbing right arm. He pushed his hair out of his eyes, blinking up at the dove with large eyes.

"Hi," he said. His voice was hoarse from disuse.

He wasn't particularly scared. He knew that whatever was happening right now, they couldn't keep him locked up forever. He told himself that, because it kept him sane. They were just doing tests to confirm what Kaneki had told that girl at the desk. They were just making sure he was really human.

He wondered how that had gone.

It was a woman. She jerked her chin at him. "Hands," she said. He noted she had a pair of shackles in her fist. Kaneki offered out his wrists, and she locked the handcuffs around them, jerking him toward the door.

They exited his cell into a curving hall that overlooked a circular gap. The floors were rings around an empty space. And there were a lot of floors.

Kaneki gaped, blinking rapidly to be sure he was seeing right.

"Um," he gasped as the woman shoved him forward. "Where are we?"

"Don't speak."

He clamped his mouth shut.

It was best to be a good prisoner. He wanted information, and in order to get that he had to play obedient. He glanced down at his shackles, and he wondered how easy it would be to escape. But he reminded himself that he was trying to get on the CCG's good side.

This had been a really bad idea.

Better the CCG than Aogiri, he told himself fiercely.

It was true. He was much more comfortable and much more sane than he'd been when captured by Aogiri. Far less scared too. He felt somewhat safe here, despite the fact that he knew he was being probed in his sleep. It was invasive, but he'd been through worse.

He was led to a large, empty room, and seated before a yawning window. He stared vacantly at the two men before him. A shivery feeling consumed his stomach as he stared into the half-crazed eyes of the white haired investigator that had killed Mrs. Fueguchi.

Kaneki had no clue what his face looked like. But he must have looked terrified, because the man's face split into a wide smirk.

"Hello there." The man's voice was rather raspy, and he seemed to coo as he spoke, as though he were speaking to a child. "Ken, was it?"

Kaneki sunk lower into his seat, his defense mechanisms kicking in at full blast. This man was not someone he could ever like or trust or be civil with. He bit his tongue, and his eyes averted sharply toward the tall man standing at a distance. Suddenly the chill that the mad-eyed investigator had given him dissipated.

In a different life, with the dust of crumbling buildings clinging to his mouth, he'd pleaded with this man to let rivalries die. That simple, desperate smile tugged at the muscles of his mouth, a ghost on his lips. He couldn't see a way to stop it. If you would, that silly boy had said, polite and soft as ever, may I ask… your name?

Koutarou Amon, he thought.

How different he seemed now, distanced from the field of battle, turning his face to the injustice that was being shoved before him.

The man's words hung inside Kaneki's head, vague and whispery. Ghoul bastard. Like the dust that had clogged Kaneki's throat. It stung in his eyes. The only place you're going is Cochlea.

He jolted upright. A revelation swung its mighty fist, crashing into the side of his head and whipping his face to meet the mad man's.

"Am I in Cochlea?" he blurted before he could stop himself.

Amon's eyes flashed. The mad man's thin lips parted into a pursed little O, his brow rising minutely.

"Now," the man said, leaning forward so his breath nearly misted upon the glass. "Where'd you hear a thing like that?"

Fear latched on to him once more. He stammered as he spoke. "I-I heard it here, I think," he said, leaning back in his seat. "I don't know where. Maybe when I was taken out of my room?"

"This is the first time you've been released," Amon stated sharply. It was not in an unkind voice. He was merely stating it like a correction, like a teacher scolding a student for shouting the incorrect answer.

"No," Kaneki said very quietly. "No, I've definitely been taken out of my room before. They do it when I'm asleep." He shifted his hands, listening to the chains jostle. He was wearing what could only be described as prison garb. Rough and scratchy cloth, limp and shapeless and gray.

Amon frowned, and he glanced at the mad man. He took a few careful steps forward, and Kaneki knew immediately that he'd been really trying to keep his distance. There was a rift here. Kaneki could sense it. They were arguing, he realized. Before they came in here, they were disagreeing on something.

"You were asleep?" Amon squinted at him.

"Are you sure you weren't simply having an elaborate dream?" the mad man suggested cheerfully.

Kaneki flushed. He stared at them, his entire body hunched and locked in defense. "Um…" He bit his lip. "Do you think I'm stupid, or something?" The man's expression remained unchanged, but Amon's eyes narrowed. "Have you ever been held captive before? You become hyper aware of everything around you. Especially when you don't have contact with anyone. I know what blood being drawn feels like. That's fine, you can take as much blood as you want. But whatever else was done to me, I really would like to know. Please."

"This was done while you were sleeping," Amon clarified, "without your consent?"

"Yes," Kaneki said. He lowered his head, his heart beating hard in his chest. A shock of defiance ran through him, and he muttered, "I guess because I'm a ghoul now, I don't have any real rights."

He bit back a satisfied smirk when Amon jerked upright. His eyes moved sharply to the mad man's face, and he stared for a long time while the man leaned forward.

"Let's start simple," he said. He pulled out a clipboard and rested it on a little shelf beneath the window. "Answer to me truthfully. Yes or no only. Your name is Kaneki Ken?"

"Yes."

"You went on a date with a young woman, Kamishiro Rize, who was a ghoul?"

"Yes."

"Kamishiro Rize's organs were transplanted into you by one Kanou Akihiro?"

"Yes…"

"And since then you have been displaying ghoul-like behavior?"

Kaneki sighed. "Yes," he hissed.

"Good, good." The man flipped the page. "Now let's get down to the nitty gritty, shall we? Do you crave human flesh?"

Kaneki swallowed thickly. He looked away. "Listen… I—"

"Yes or no," the man said coolly.

He squeezed his eyes shut. "Yes," he murmured. He felt ashamed. He saw Amon shift uneasily out of the corner of his eye.

"Have you considered attacking and subsequently consuming a human?"

"I... No," he said quietly. He took a deep breath. "No."

He noticed the pause there, and he looked up. The man was eying him distrustfully. Amon's eyes had risen as well. He looked strangely hopeful. He's on my side, Kaneki thought excitedly.

Now he just had to sway the mad man.

"You don't want to eat humans?" the mad man asked in a slow, tender voice. He leaned forward, and gestured with his thumb and forefinger. "Not even a tinsy bit?"

"No," Kaneki said firmly. "I can't eat my own kind."

"But you are a ghoul?"

"Well, I mean…"

"Yes or no."

"Yes," Kaneki snapped. "Yes, I am a ghoul."

"But you claim humans are your own kind?"

"Yes."

"Are you human?" Amon cut in, leaning over the man's head and staring through the glass heatedly. "Tell me, do you believe you are still human?"

"Yes." Kaneki did not miss a beat. He matched the man's stare. A shot of adrenaline ran through him, and he remembered all the past meetings, and all the past tears, because he knew this man could understand. He had the empathy, the compassion. This man could change everything, if he'd just let himself believe.

"But you said you're a ghoul," the mad man said. "You cannot be both."

"How do you know?" Kaneki's eyes raised and widened. "Have you ever met anyone like me before? I'm half a ghoul, half a human. I won't choose which side is more dominant. It'd be impossible."

The man carefully set aside the clipboard. He watched Kaneki with his one droopy eye sparkling.

"Why did you come to the CCG, Ken?"

Kaneki's eyes narrowed at him. "I guess I was under the illusion that you could help me," he said vacantly.

"We don't help ghouls."

"Then help a few humans," Kaneki pleaded. "Myself included. I don't want to hurt anyone!"

"And how should we help you with that?" The man cocked his head to the side. "Feed you little scraps of human meat we find lying around?"

"Stop pretending like I'm stupid," Kaneki sighed. "This is a prison for ghouls, if I've got it right. You feed the ghouls here, don't you? Just give me whatever you give them."

The man's lips stretched thinly in a vague grin. "Huh." He tapped his chin with one long finger. "So in exchange for nutrition… what will you do for us?"

There it was.

The Faustian bargain finally revealed itself.

Kaneki was prepared for it.

"I'll fight for you," he said, his eyes flashing between the two men. "I'm part ghoul, so I'm pretty durable, and I have a kagune. Which I'm sure you figured out when you probed me in my sleep."

"Probed is such an ugly word!" The man pouted a little. "I'd think of it like an examination."

Amon's entire face grew shadowy as he turned his face away. Perhaps he thought that averting his eyes would change the scene, change the reality, that there was a human before him who was also a ghoul, who they'd failed to protect, who they'd failed to help when he was still all good and pure and completely human.

"Thank you," Kaneki said coldly. "I like the idea of being examined in my sleep so much better."

"Kaneki," Amon said gently. That was shocking. How soothing and soft the man's voice had become. "I know how this must seem to you, but we really do want to help you. If you're serious—"

"I'm dead serious." Kaneki let his shackled hands rest on his shelf, and he lifted his chin high. "Get me out of here, stop me from eating humans, and I'll be a dove or whatever."

"Dove?" The mad man asked curiously. Kaneki blanched, a rock dropping into his stomach. "What on earth do you mean by that?"

"That's street slang," he explained hastily. "I heard it from some guy at my university. People call the CCG doves because they wear white, or something. I don't really know for sure, there might be a different reason, but I mean, I just kind of assumed."

"That's fascinating."

Kaneki shrugged, lowering his head and praying for his life.

"Well then, Kaneki Ken," the man said, pushing his chair back and standing up. "I'll take you up on that offer. Welcome to the CCG."

Kaneki's mouth fell open. "Just like that?" he asked weakly.

"You got it." He patted Amon's arm. The tall man was, for the first time, inscrutable. He stared at Kaneki for a long time. And then they both disappeared. Kaneki sat confusedly, glancing down at his cuffed wrists, and he twisted around in his seat to see if anyone was in the room with him. He toyed with the links of the chain, considering how much force it'd take to snap them.

The door slid open, and Kaneki stared vacantly as Amon stepped into the room, moving slowly toward him. When Kaneki spotted the keys in his hand, he stood up. Amon took Kaneki by the arm, his fist massive in comparison to Kaneki's scrawny forearm, and the cuffs unlocked with a click. A weight was lifted from Kaneki as the shackles were stripped away. He let himself relax for a bare moment.

"Thank you," he whispered. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them. Amon was watching him with drooping eyes.

"Don't thank me just yet," he said quietly. And then he turned sharply and left the room. Kaneki followed, not sure what else to really do.

His bare feet were chilled against the tile floor as he met the mad man face to face. He had his brief case. His lop-sided smirk. His crazed, protruding, drooping eye. And he offered out his hand.

"Mado Kureo," he said brightly. "You will be working under me."

Kaneki wanted to ask why. He was close to objecting, inquiring about the way the CCG worked, because this didn't really seem right to him. But he let it go.

They left Cochlea in a car, Kaneki sitting awkwardly in the back seat with his clothes in his lap. His bare feet rubbed against the wiry carpet of the car, and he glanced between the two investigators uneasily. Okay, so he'd infiltrated the CCG somewhat successfully. Now what? He'd thought over plans and strategies during his week and a half in captivity.

Firstly, he would need to figure the date. Map out a timeline for when things would happen. If he didn't know exactly what was going to happen next, what was the point of being from the future? Secondly, he had to sway people toward sympathizing with ghouls. How the hell was he going to do that?

"So this Kamishiro Rize," Mado called, twisting in his seat to peer at Kaneki. Amon was driving. "You think she's really dead?"

Kaneki blinked rapidly. "That's what the doctor said," Kaneki said cautiously. He was scared of what he might say around this man. His eyes seemed to stare right through Kaneki, and he could simply figure every lie out before it was even spoken.

"How did you know?" Mado's eyes were twinkling. "That you were a ghoul, I mean. You were hardly even out of the hospital before you went to the CCG. What else did that doctor tell you?"

Kaneki's jaw tightened. "I figured it out," he said, "when I started seeing people less like people and more like meat."

"Oho?" Mado turned about, facing forward. "And how does that feel?"

"Terrible." Kaneki met Amon's eye in the rearview mirror. He swallowed very thickly, and he sighed. "It's not like anything a human could ever experience. It hurts. There's like an empty pit in my stomach that needs to be filled, and the longer it's left to hollow me out, the less of me there is to resist it."

"Well," Amon said sharply. "It's a good thing you came to us, then."

Kaneki nodded slowly. "Yeah…" He sunk into his seat. "Excuse me, um… Mr. Mado?"

"Hmm?"

"You know that there were things done to me in my sleep." Kaneki stared at the man's back, his stringy white hair falling in long waves by his hunched shoulders. "I really need to know what happened."

"Do you really, though?"

"Mado," Amon hissed, his chin jerking rather sharply as he shot the man a heated glance.

Mado hummed quietly to himself. His shoulders rose and fell stiffly. "I have no real authority with Cochlea," he said loftily. "But I'll receive your file once all the proper paperwork is documented. My guess is that you were being monitored. Your RC levels, your heart rate, the organs that were transplanted, your kakuhou. That fun stuff."

Kaneki followed his words easily, but he caught himself before he nodded. He needed to remember that he was supposed to be a human boy, human and unassuming, and he already acted like he knew far too much. He really shouldn't know anything about ghouls.

"Um," he said with a nervous laugh. "What's… RC? And a— a shining wrap?" He smiled sheepishly. "That sounds so silly!"

"A kakuhou is the sack you've got hidden somewhere inside you," Mado explained with a low, slow voice, like the narration of a history special. "It releases your kagune. Which you already knew about."

"Yeah…"

"There are four types of kagune," Mado continued, "ukaku, koukaku, rinkaku, and bikaku. Where is your located?"

"Uh… like…" Kaneki's hand moved toward the small of his back. "Lower back? I guess."

"Toward the tailbone?"

"No, higher."

"A rinkaku," Amon said quietly.

"I'd love to see that," Mado chuckled. He said it in a strange, heightened tone, a giddiness hanging there that reminded Kaneki of displaced hunger. "So what happened to make it come out? I need to know, was it hunger? Excitement? Fear?"

"Fear," Kaneki said dully.

"Of what?"

Kaneki remembered Nishiki. Fuck, he thought, pinching the bridge of his nose. I have to go deal with him. Could they still be friends? Kaneki hoped so, but like hell Nishiki would ever trust a dove.

"My friend was in danger," he said quietly. "I was scared for him."

"Now wait a minute." Mado waggled a finger, never looking back. "Does this friend know you're a ghoul?"

"He's human too, Mado, don't forget," Amon said.

"Yes, yes, but the ghoul part is more important, I think." Mado shrugged. "So does he know?"

Kaneki didn't respond. He was terrified of what would happen if he said the wrong thing. If Mado didn't like the answer. He was trying to save Hide, damn it!

But, of course, Hide was human. He inherently had better odds with the CCG than Kaneki did.

"He does," Kaneki said quietly. "He told me not to tell anyone. He probably thinks I skipped town because I disappeared for so long."

"He knows and he accepted you?" Mado sounded dubious.

"Listen, I'm shocked too." Kaneki sighed. "He's just a really good person."

"I'd like to meet this boy." Mado straightened up. "Where does he live?"

The shivery feeling from earlier returned with a vengeance, and Kaneki felt a little nauseous. He stayed silent, his horror likely written on his face. He was now becoming aware of how precarious his situation was. These people could easily lock him back up, or kill him, or kill everyone he loved.

Why was he doing this?

"Well?" Mado sounded impatient.

"He's scared," Amon said. "You're scaring him."

"What's there to be scared of?" Mado's odd, bulging eyes flickered to Kaneki's face, and a wide smirk appeared on his wormy lips. "No harm will come to your friend so long as he's human."

"And if not you'll just kill him?" Kaneki shrunk in his seat. "That's terrible."

"Ghouls are an infestation, Ken." Mado's smirk was resting in place. Plastered onto his sunken face, unshakable amidst the discomfort that Kaneki set forward. "Tell me, how did your little date with that ghoul girl go? What happened before those beams fell on her?"

Kaneki shot him a cold look. He couldn't really reply, because no matter what he said it would reflect poorly on him.

"Fufu, thought so!" Mado straightened and turned around. "You've been cooped up for quite awhile, Ken. Don't you want a familiar face to greet you?"

It was cruel of him to prey on Kaneki's weaknesses like that.

"He's at Kamii University," Kaneki murmured.

Hide isn't a ghoul, Kaneki thought firmly. I have nothing to worry about.

He was still prickling with a sharp, anxious fear as the drive continued. He thought about Hinami, about Touka, about this man's demise, and he tried to remember when that happened, he tried to rationalize that it might not happen. He had to hope that it wouldn't be necessary. That Hinami would be safe with her mother. That Mrs. Fueguchi would survive this time.

Wasn't that why he was doing this?

"I look like a criminal," Kaneki muttered as he exited the car. His bare feet scraped the pavement, and he hugged his clothes to his chest. "What happened to my shoes?"

"They must've lost them," Mado said brightly. "After all, Cochlea isn't really used to simply letting prisoners go!"

His voice was so loud and harsh, it echoed across the campus, and a few heads turned their way. Kaneki flushed.

"Why don't we go to the bathroom, Kaneki," Amon suggested. He was being very polite, speaking softly and using a simple honorific. He spoke as though he were speaking the name as forwardly as he could without being rude. Kaneki-san, though not quite with the inflection that would imply Mr. Kaneki.

"Okay," Kaneki said slowly, turning away from Mado. "Um, they're this way…"

"I can wait here," Mado said, plopping down on a bench and setting his briefcase down. "We're in no rush."

Kaneki didn't stick around any longer than that. He walked away, Amon following quietly, and when they were a good distance away from Mado, Kaneki let out a great sigh of relief.

"I'm sorry," Amon said. Kaneki jumped, and he glanced up at him. "I know he can be a lot to handle, but please don't judge him too harshly. He's a good man."

A good man. The words echoed in Kaneki's head. No, that's not right. Mr. Yoshimura is a good man. Mado is a lunatic.

That was wrong. The wrong word, the wrong language. He was wrong. Mado was a human with the disposition of a ghoul. He hungered for the kill, thrived on the satisfaction, glorified his trophies. What game was he playing? What did he gain from this senseless cruelty?

"You say not to judge him," Kaneki murmured. "But did he not judge me immediately? Just for being a ghoul?"

"You're not a ghoul," Amon told him in that soft voice that suggested pity and fondness. It was so strange to hear from this man. This foe of a friend, this man who had tried and tried to understand a bastard ghoul who hadn't a clue what he was doing.

"Would that make it easier for you to like me?" Kaneki asked him sharply. Amon eyebrows arched up beneath his neatly combed bangs.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me tell Mado that I was a ghoul." Kaneki quickened his steps, his chest seizing up at the stares he was getting. Relax, he told himself. This is fine. People stare all the time. Pressure, pressure, like a thumb against an eggshell. The eggshell was his skull, and the thumb was humanity. "I won't pretend to be something I'm not for the CCG. If I'm going to fight for you as a ghoul, then you are going to acknowledge that I am a ghoul."

"Do you want to be a ghoul?" Amon sounded so shocked. Kaneki supposed that was within reason. Last time, Kaneki had been so disgusted with himself. So ashamed and scared of what being a ghoul meant. But now he knew better. Now he knew that being a ghoul… it wasn't the end of the world. There were good ghouls, and there were bad ghouls, and sometimes there were muddied ghouls with no real place anywhere. Humans were just the same.

It was all the same.

"Um…" Kaneki shuffled his feet, dragging them as he walked. "Honestly, I don't know how to answer that question. I would rather be human, but I'm not going to ignore who I am now because of that."

"You weren't given a choice," Amon told him. As if he didn't already know. "You shouldn't have to feel like you need to accept it."

"No offense," Kaneki laughed weakly, "but I'm pretty sure the fast track to losing your mind is to hate yourself." I'd know, he added as an afterthought.

"Kaneki," Amon said as they entered the men's bathroom. "You understand what you're signing up for, don't you?"

Kaneki's bare toes stuck to the grimy tile floor as he marched up to a stall.

"I guess I really don't," he said, turning to face the man and smiling weakly. Amon had that look in his eyes again. Pure pity. "But I don't have any other choice, do I?"

It was either this, or let Anteiku crumble.

Even though he ended up dressed in the clothes he'd thrown on the night he'd gone to Anteiku, he was still barefoot. His jeans hung loosely at his hips, and he tugged at them dazedly. He'd already lost so much weight in such a short period of time. His ribs were protruding now.

He walked solemnly, Amon at his back, tailing him like a prison guard. His sweater was slipping against his thin shoulders, and he watched the hem of his jeans drag against the sidewalk. He seemed to have outgrown his old life in the matter of days.

A high-pitched cry knocked him out of his thoughts. He was caught by the shoulders, fingers digging into his skin and throttling him to and fro.

"Heee-ey!" Hide cried. The throttling did not cease. "Damn you, Kaneki, skipping class for so long! I don't know anybody in Asian History, put yourself in my shoes!" Kaneki's head snapped back and forth, his head rattling. Déjà vu was cruel and sharp, a lash upon his cheek. "Rabbits—!"

"Rabbits don't die of loneliness," Kaneki cut in, grabbing Hide by the shoulders and pushing him back sharply. "And you have no trouble making friends."

"Ooh!" Hide's eyes brightened considerably. "How'd you know I was gonna say that, Kaneki?" He nudged his shoulders back and forth gently. "Are you psychic or something?"

"Yes," Kaneki said flatly, vaguely dismayed at his slip up. "I can read minds."

"What am I thinking about right now?"

"Um." Kaneki rolled his eyes back into his skull. "Batman."

"Batwoman," Hide corrected, his eyes narrowing. "Shame on you. I only read quality comic books."

"You like Batman," Kaneki sighed, shoving him away.

"Shh!" Hide swatted him over the head. "Don't let anyone hear you! It's so conformist, it's embarrassing!" Hide jerked a finger at Kaneki's face. "Are you trying to ruin my street cred?"

"Are you kidding?"

"Nagachika!" Two students came wandering over. Kaneki stared at them, recalling that this had happened all before. "Are these guys your friends?"

"This one is, yeah!" Hide caught Kaneki in a headlock and laughed heartily. He glanced back at Amon, and he shrugged. "I don't know this guy, though. Howdy. You a friend of Kaneki's?"

"We're acquaintances," Amon said. He lowered his head. "I'm Koutarou Amon."

"Ah-mun," Hide repeated, stressing out syllables purposefully to sound silly. "Now that's a wicked name. Amon Ra, Amon of Judah, or the demon, Aamon?"

"What?" Kaneki said flatly.

Amon looked surprised. He merely stared, his jaw tight.

"Ha ha!" Hide laughed brightly. "Why don't I just call you Koutarou?"

"That's fair." Amon looked bemused. "That's certainly some impressive knowledge you have."

"Nah, bro," Hide said sheepishly, stuffing his hands in his pocket. "I just go on Wikipedia binges sometimes."

"Anyways," one of the students said. "We'll catch you later, Nagachika. Remember to get that DVD from Nishio, the one from last year's festival."

"Roger that!" Hide didn't even look at them as he waved them away. "So, Kaneki, you feeling any better?"

"Oh." Kaneki did not look at Amon. He scratched his chin, and he laughed. "Yeah, I'm way better now."

"Good!" Hide threw his arms behind his head and marched forward. "Hey, Koutarou, you can come with if you want. I just need to grab something from a classmate."

"That's fine." Amon sounded apprehensive. "After that, my partner and I need to speak with you."

"Your partner, you say?" Hide hummed. They were all walking at a leisurely pace, starting across campus. The sun-baked bricks cooked the soles of Kaneki's feet. "Are you a cop?"

"I'm a ghoul investigator."

Hide continued walking, his arms behind his head, his strides long and lazy. "Huh," he said, his voice peppered with his usual drawl. Kaneki couldn't believe it. Hide was a master at avoiding suspicion. "Ghouls? Really? Isn't that like, dangerous?"

"Someone has to do it," Amon said with a shrug.

"Heh." Hide shot him a half smile. "Okay, I can dig it. Give me some details, ghoul buster. What are ghouls like? Are they as powerful as people say? Can they really not eat human food?"

"Hide," Kaneki said quietly, glancing at Amon worriedly. The man had no real reaction. He merely continued walking.

"Well," he said, "ghouls look to be about the same as humans. They very powerful though."

"And they have to eat humans?" Hide lowered his arms at his sides. "That's not just an urban legend? Not just a tall tale told to kids at night to spook them?"

"Hide," Kaneki sighed, "he knows that you know."

Hide didn't stop walking. His playful expression turned stony, and he just kept moving, step after step after step, a heavy silence blanketing them.

Finally he spoke.

"Koutarou," he said, "can I ask a question?"

"Certainly…" Though Amon didn't look too positive he wanted to hear one.

Hide spun on his heels, snapping them together and standing at attention, like a soldier in the presence of a commanding officer or something. He stared at Amon with large eyes.

"Why did you keep him locked up for almost two weeks?" Hide's voice was clipped and emotionless. His eyes were hollow. He stared into Amon's face, and he stared through it. "That was, frankly, a violation of Kaneki's rights."

"Technically the CCG can withhold him simply for being a ghoul," Amon informed Hide in a similarly clipped tone.

"That's illogical and puritanical," Hide snapped. "You can't just take people and lock them up. Is there even a law in Japan stating you can imprison ghouls? Do ghouls have a right to a fair trial? Has there ever even been a ghoul on trial for being a ghoul before? No, of course not, silly me." He laughed, and it was a harsh, strained sound. "You can't put someone on trial for existing."

"Hide," Kaneki gasped, grabbing Hide's arm and shooting him a warning look. "I'm fine. Nothing happened, okay?"

"Okay, buddy."

And he dropped it. Just like that.

"This'll be quick, Koutarou," Hide explained about five minutes later as they moved through a hall. "Nishiki's not really much of a gabber, so we'll have that chat soon, I guess."

Hide reached a door marked AO, and Kaneki watched his hand go to the handle. Kaneki snatched it, twisting it away from the door and elbowing Hide in the ribs.

"Ow," Hide squeaked, "ow, ow, ow!"

"Don't just barge into people's rooms, Hide," Kaneki hissed. "Knock first."

"Is that really necessary?"

"Yes." Kaneki tapped his knuckles against Nishiki's door twice.

Then he realized. He glanced at Amon.

Fuck.

His eyes widened in horror.

He just brought a ghoul investigator to Nishiki.

He was such a fucking idiot.

There was shuffling from the other side of the door, soft noises, Kimi's quiet, panicked words muffled by the distance. Kaneki released Hide's arm, taking a few careful steps back.

"Hey," he whispered to Amon. "We should go, don't you think? I need to find shoes."

"Oh yeah," Hide said thoughtfully, glancing at Kaneki's feet. "What happened to them?"

"No clue." Kaneki tapped Amon on the arm. The man began to turn slowly, following Kaneki's lead as the door slid open.

Kimi exited the room hastily, her shirt a little ruffled, but otherwise she was composed. She met their gazes, and she tipped her head, hurrying down the hall until they could no longer hear the soft padding of her feet against tile. Hide followed her with his eyes.

"Huh," he said vacantly. "I didn't know you had a girlfriend, Nishio."

"Did you want something, Nagachika?" Nishiki's voice was thick and dull from inside the room. Kaneki stood very still. If he could just prevent Amon from actually seeing Nishiki, maybe…

"Just stopping by for that festival DVD thing," Hide laughed, slamming the door wide open. Kaneki and Amon were suddenly in plain view of the room, and Nishiki rocked back in a rolling chair, his shirt tugged down past his collarbone.

Amon hunched a bit. He looked uncomfortable. Out of place, probably. He was, after all, quite grown up in comparison to all the students he'd just met.

The scent of coffee wafted toward Kaneki, and he was reminded with a punch in the gut of Anteiku. If he stood there long enough, letting the strong, acrid aroma fill his nose, he could almost pretend like he was there again. Like there was a chance he could return.

Kaneki watched Nishiki's eyes. They ran over Kaneki's face without any sign of emotion, but there was a momentary flash when his gaze reached Amon. A spark of fear. Apprehension. Anger.

Caution.

"Who're these guys?" He cocked his head to the side, his body language loose and relaxed. His words were still thick, and Kaneki caught a hint of tension, but he figured if Amon heard it then he'd just chalk it up to killed arousal.

"Oh, this is my buddy Kaneki!" Hide clapped Kaneki on the shoulder and grinned broadly. "I think I told you about him, or something? Been friends since we were kids?"

"Yeah, I remember." Nishiki adjusted his glasses and stood up. "And who's the big guy?"

"Koutarou Amon," Amon introduced himself curtly, bowing very respectfully. He stayed at the threshold as Hide dragged Kaneki into the room.

"You don't look like a student." Nishiki turned away, striding at a leisurely pace past his couch and kicking open a drawer. "Are you a guest speaker or something?"

I forgot how good he was at pretending, Kaneki thought, vaguely awed as he watched Nishiki thumb through a stack CD cases.

"No, actually, I just was dropping Kaneki off." Amon sounded sheepish. Perhaps he realized how strange his presence was. "I simply got roped into Nagachika's errands."

"Aw, don't be like that, Koutarou," Hide laughed. "I said it'd be quick, didn't I?"

"Well." Nishiki was still crouching. "You guys… can just come in. If you want a beer or something, help yourself."

Kaneki was already in the room, and he felt a gnawing fear as Amon entered behind him.

"How old are you?" Amon asked cautiously.

"Legal." Nishiki stood, stretching his legs and then stretching his arms. "Ah. Nagachika and them are still underage. What, you gonna rat them out if they have a beer?"

"I'm simply going to advise against it," Amon said carefully.

Nishiki threw his hands up, his eyes closing behind his glasses. "Just trying to be a gracious host." He rolled his eyes and went back to rummaging. "Since you ruined my date."

"Aw, you know me, Nishio," Hide said with a shrug. "Master of bad timing."

A soft buzzing sound filled the room, and all eyes turned to Amon. He excused himself quickly, bowing out of the room and closing the door behind him. They watched, and Nishiki whistled.

"That guy is straight laced as fuck," he noted. His eyes moved toward Kaneki. They flicked toward his bare feet. "Did you get mugged, or something?"

"No." Kaneki shuffled awkwardly. "I… why would a mugger take shoes?"

"Why wouldn't a mugger take shoes?" Nishiki scoffed. He rolled his eyes again. "What size are you?"

"Huh?" Kaneki leaned back in alarm. He wasn't really sure why there wasn't any real hostility in Nishiki's tone or actions, especially considering Kaneki had brought a dove into his territory, but he was sort of grateful. Kaneki and Nishiki had really gotten off on the wrong foot the first time.

Nishiki tossed him a pair of sneakers, worn and a little muddy. They collided with the tile, one rolling and tipping onto its side, shoelaces spilling in a trail of white and brown.

"You don't have to—!" Kaneki gasped.

"I've been meaning to throw them away," Nishiki said flatly. "Take them or leave them."

"Thank you…" Kaneki slid his feet into the well-worn sneakers. His soles were grateful for the relief.

"Wow, Nishio," Hide gasped. They could all hear Amon's voice murmuring softly in the hall. "I didn't know you could be so nice!"

"What, you think I'm mean, Nagachika?"

"Oh, no, no!" Hide laughed. "Just distant, that's all. You've got this whole cool, calculated, computer hacker type thing going on!"

"That's the desired effect." He plucked a disc from the pile and tossed it at Hide. He caught it, holding it up triumphantly and grinning. "Well, if that's all…?"

"Yep, that's it!" Hide beamed. "Thanks, Nishio!"

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out, Nagachika." It was almost playful, but there was a slight bite to his words. He wanted them gone.

"Oh, no worries, it's a sliding door, silly!" Hide winked, catching Kaneki by the elbow and dragging him toward the door.

"Bye, Nishio," Kaneki said distantly, unaware of his slip up even with the bemused stare that followed him.

He realized too late he'd said Nishio-senpai.

The door slid open just as Hide and Kaneki were attempting to leave. Amon stood there, blinking down at them. Behind him, Mado stood, peering into the room. Kaneki shouldered past them both, quick to move into the hall and away from Nishiki. Hide and Amon followed, but Mado lingered.

Kaneki turned back. He stared at the mad man for a moment as he gazed forward, his feet edging the line of the threshold. His briefcase hung limply at his thigh.

The door slammed shut.

Chapter Text

For a breathless moment, Nishiki had faced Mado, staring into the mad man's eyes, understanding what danger was hanging there.

Mado turned sharply and strode after them.

"So," he called, a low bark that made Kaneki jump, "you're the secret keeper, then?"

"And you're the partner, I'm guessing?" Hide tilted his head. "Nagachika Hideyoshi."

"Mado Kureo. Let's walk, hm? It's a beautiful day!" He pushed ahead of them, and Kaneki watched his slightly hunched back move farther and farther away. Kaneki threw a hopeless glance back at Nishiki's door, but it had closed sharply the moment Kaneki's neck bent back over his shoulder. Hide had to snatch him by the shoulder to get him to keep walking.

"I'm not sure what you guys want from me," Hide said vacantly as they passed back into the blanket of sunshine. The warmth was welcome after the chilly encounter with Nishio Nishiki. "I'm not gonna tell anyone about Kaneki."

"Why is that?" Mado's voice rumbled softly, and Hide glanced at him confusedly. "Amon tells me you're a smart boy. Why would you shelter a ghoul?"

"Excuse me?" Hide stopped walking, his fists shoved in the pockets of his jacket. He was smiling docilely. Blinking at Mado innocently. "What do you mean by shelter? I've never sheltered Kaneki from anything."

"Nagachika," Amon said cautiously, shooting a quick glance at Kaneki. He clearly felt somewhat guilty about this entire situation, but Kaneki didn't show any sort of discomfort. He needed these people if he wanted to survive in the CCG. "You should have brought Kaneki's condition to the CCG's attention immediately."

"Sorry, I think I missed something," Hide laughed, "like is there some kind of ghoul handbook or something? Is there a law that humans have to turn in ghouls to the CCG?"

"Actually, it's customary for people to give the CCG tips on suspected ghouls." Amon was obviously trying to sound helpful, but Hide merely stretched his lips into a half pursed, half incredulous smile. He averted his eyes sharply, his head jerking in a half tick, like the sharp movement of the big hand on a clock. Well okay, then, his body language barked.

"Listen," Hide gasped, throwing up his hands in mock surrender. "I'm a first year university student. I eat out of gross instant ramen cups. I have like five hundred yen to my name. My first concern in life isn't really turning my best friend in to a mysterious ghoul hunting organization, okay? I just want to pass my Asian History midterm, and maybe not be worried sick about my aforementioned best friend's whereabouts." Hide paused, and he held up a finger sharply, twisting to face Kaneki. "I have your notes, by the way."

"Oh." Kaneki had forgotten about school, honestly. "Thanks."

"No problem." Hide offered a shrug and laugh. Amon's brows were raised quite high, and Mado was smiling. Kaneki thought that must be a customary expression for him. He always looked like he knew something no one else did. "Anyhow, sorry I didn't like, call to check in, or something. My bad. If I had known you had Kaneki then I would have gone to you guys immediately."

"I wonder why you didn't go looking for him." Mado tapped his chin curiously. Hide stared at him, his mouth opening and closing but not a peep coming out. Kaneki watched him, but he couldn't say anything. Hide had left Kaneki alone. As always. The moment Kaneki had stopped answering his calls, Hide had probably assumed Kaneki had skipped down.

"Can I go home now?" Kaneki blurted. He could feel the tensions rising, and he didn't like that Hide was in the middle of it. "I feel like I haven't showered in over a week."

"Oh, is that what that smell is?" Hide quipped without missing a beat.

Kaneki ignored that remark with as much dignity as he possibly could. He shot Amon a pleading glance, which the man matched with a mild stare. There was nothing that could be done. Mado was rubbing his hands together, gloves squelching from the friction.

"Perhaps we've gotten off on the wrong foot, hmm?" Mado cocked his head, his smile widening with some particular malice. He spun on his heel, gesturing for them to follow as he started down a crowded walkway. A few students parted to let him pass. "Let me make it up to you!"

Kaneki glanced at Hide, but his friend had already started forward. So instead Kaneki's eyes went to Amon. And Amon merely sighed.

"It's better not to question it," Amon told him. "He's thinking far faster than all of us put together."

That was unnerving to think about. This man seemed to be too clever by far, and his madness… who was Kaneki to judge, anyway? The first time Kaneki Ken had met Mado Kureo, the eccentric nature of the man had been more than simply terrifying. He'd grabbed Kaneki and yanked him through an RC detector after all, leaving him shaky and nauseous from terror.

Mado Kureo was wild and wired and wicked, but his danger did not derive from madness. It was his cunning that chilled Kaneki to the bone. He seemed to be preying on Kaneki's innate fear of losing his loved ones, and latching onto that intimidation tactic. He'd already learned so much about Kaneki in such a brief amount of time, and Kaneki was completely clueless to this man and his motives. How could anyone be so terrible?

Amon was watching him, dark eyes flickering curiously across Kaneki's face. This man wanted to learn too. He wanted to know what it was that made Kaneki tick, what it was that was keeping him from devolving into a rabid, salivating beast. He looked down upon Kaneki's round, youthful face, his big, swollen eyes, and he saw a child. Kaneki knew it. Koutarou Amon was clinging to the thought that Kaneki was just a human child thrust into the tempest of ghouldom, innocent and guiltless to the actions taken place to give him this unbreakable body.

Amon saw him as a baby dangling by the ankle in the grasp of a gleaming eyed goddess, her long fingers drawing blood from his fleshy calf as she dipped him into the river Styx, watching serenely as he squalled and thrashed against the chilly black current.

And what could Mado see him as? Certainly not a helpless child resigned to an unfortunate fate.

He must have seen something human, though. Or else Kaneki would not be free.

Kaneki began to follow Mado with the sort of hopeless obedience of a dog on a chain. Was that not exactly what he was destined to be at this point? What if he couldn't change a thing and he was stuck slaughtering innocent ghouls for the rest of his life? What a sad existence that would be, hating himself more and more with every little motion, never truly in charge of his own actions.

Was this really the right choice?

He supposed it was too late to turn back now.

Amon and Kaneki caught up with Mado just as he'd sidled up alongside a mobile ice cream cart. He caught the end of his order.

"— With sprinkles for Hideyoshi." He spoke with clipped, almost mocking familiarity. His thin, wormy lips enunciated every syllable of Hide's name— Hi-de-yo-shi-kun. Hide's expression remained amicable in spite of the use of his given name. Mado turned his head toward them as they paused a solid meter and a half away, both Kaneki and Amon a little wary of Mado's mood. "Chocolate in a cup for Amon, plain, no sprinkles or whipped cream."

"I'll pass," Amon said cautiously.

"Nonsense." Mado dug his hand into his pocket, and hummed to himself loftily. "Ken?"

"Uh… no thank you," he said. "I'll pass as well."

"And a vanilla cone for Ken," Mado said brightly. He tossed a crumpled bill onto the cart, lifting a tiny square packet from his pocket. He tossed it to Amon, who caught it in a massive fist, his eyes a little wide. Mado then glanced at Kaneki with an unreasonably gleeful smirk. "Do you need a lactate as well?"

Mutely, Kaneki shook his head, unable to properly prepare a verbal assault worthy of this man's phony charity.

Hide took his ice cream excitedly, his eyes lighting up like a tiny child's. Kaneki could practically see the stars lighting up his eyes as he dug into his cookies-n-cream, mashed oreo, rainbow sprinkled concoction smeared with strawberry syrup. His lips were bright red before Kaneki could blink. Bright red and sticky. Kaneki averted his eyes, a pang of lightheadedness emptying out his head. Hunger pains began their notorious dance, but he ignored them as he always did. He didn't need to eat. And if he had to… he'd find some low-life ghouls who deserved such a fate later.

Amon took his cup gratefully, and he offered a handful of yen to Mado, who shook his head promptly. "I'm trying to show some good will, Amon," he tutted, waggling a long, thin finger. "Just eat it."

"Thank you, sir," Amon said, staring at the man with some degree of awe, but mostly unparalleled gratitude. Kaneki bit his tongue as a cone was offered out to him. This wasn't good.

"I…" He glanced at Amon, who had begun eating his ice cream, and he smiled sheepishly at Mado. He cupped his chin, speaking in a soft, distant tone. "It's so nice of you to offer, but I really shouldn't…"

"I insist."

Kaneki's smile froze on his lips. Mado's merely stretched further. He pushed the cone toward Kaneki until he was practically forcing it into Kaneki's fingers. He held the cone gingerly, as though too much pressure would crush it in his palm. He stared at it, watching the ridges of the scoops begin to fill with melting cream.

Hide stopped. He swallowed thickly, his eyes rising and blinking innocently. Kaneki could not tell what he was thinking. Amon did not seem to sense the unease either. The ice cream pooled at the edge of the cone. Kaneki's jaw tightened, his gut tightening in revulsion.

"Better eat that quick," Mado remarked. "It might melt!"

Kaneki closed his eyes. I can do it, he thought firmly, bringing the cone to his lips. It's easy. Just one quick swallow, that's all. Don't even taste it. Just pretend to let it sit in your mouth. Then, remember, act like it's the most delicious thing you've ever tasted. Remember. Remember?

His lips closed against the dripping vanilla, and there was no real escaping from the taste. Rivulets of ice-cold piss slid against his tongue, growing warmer and warmer until it burned the taste buds clean off, revoltingly pungent, growing more and more foul with every second it lingered in his mouth. It tasted like he was licking the grout between the tiles of a men's public bathroom.

The cone was cracked against the pavement before he could really stop it from falling. His reflexes were weak, and his palate was still severely human. He could not handle the disgust. His gag reflex was still sharp as ever, however, and his hands clamped over his mouth to keep the stinging bile from belching out.

This is not even remotely as easy as Touka and Nishiki make it look, he thought bitterly.

A light amount of pressure was placed between his shoulder blades. Kaneki coughed into his hands, cracking one eye open. Amon was frowning, looking as though he'd lost his appetite, while Mado simply smiled placidly.

"Kaneki?" Hide's voice came from Kaneki's shoulder. He patted Kaneki's back, as though to stop him from choking. "Okay, that's enough for today. Thanks so much, Mr. Mado, Koutarou, but I think Kaneki should head home."

Mado's eyes moved to Hide's face, lingering there as Hide threw Kaneki's arm over his shoulder and shifted his weight. Kaneki was still covering his mouth with his hand, and he bowed his head in shame. Certainly Mado was playing a game. He was pushing Kaneki, testing his ghoulishness, and for what? A laugh? Experimentation? Who the fuck even knew?

"That might be for the best," Amon said, his clipped tone suggesting that he was speaking for Mado as well. The man looked, for the first time all day, dejected. As though he were an anxious dog, and Amon had ripped away his chew toy.

Hide bowed his head respectfully and pivoted Kaneki around before he could do the same. He then dragged him down the brick path, left beneath a tall glass platform bridge that connected two halls, and then left again onto a sidewalk. By that point, Kaneki felt dizzy, but no longer nauseous.

"Hide…" Kaneki grasped Hide's elbow, his fingernails digging into the slippery orange fabric. Hide glanced at him. He smiled warmly.

"You don't have to explain anything," he said, clapping his hand over the crown of Kaneki's head and ruffling his hair.

Kaneki opened his mouth to object, but he found he couldn't speak. The quiet humming sounds of the campus were drowned out by a muffling silence. His ears were cupped by two squishy circles, and he touched the headphones gingerly, shooting Hide a wild glance as music suddenly filled his head. It was some kind of rock music, soft rock maybe, nothing too straining but it was still loud enough to disjoint the barrage of unpleasant thoughts that clouded Kaneki's mind.

It was suddenly so very hard to think.

What a surprisingly pleasant sensation.

To be without thought.

Kaneki tiptoed out across the cool living room floor, moving at a swift pace toward the kitchenette. He'd woken up confused and panicked, sinking into a mattress that was too soft, and he'd thrashed around for a few seconds before recognizing his surroundings. He wasn't imprisoned anymore. He was back at his apartment. The old apartment. There was no use expecting Hinami to come padding softly into his room, swinging the door with her as she knocked thrice, calling to him to wake up, wake up, big brother, let's go! There was no Banjou lounging outside the door, no Tsukiyama waiting to barge in unannounced, and no mystery to unravel. Kaneki had his answers. In part. What he didn't have was that old sense of security.

But… he had Hide.

It was nice to be able to have Hide.

He set up the instant coffee, leaving the kettle on the stove as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and headed toward the couch. Hide was sprawled, one arm and one leg dangling precariously off the side, the other leg stretched out against the back of the couch, and his other arm angled beneath his head. The blanket Kaneki had thrown on him when he'd woken up in the middle of the night and found Hide to still be there was twisted around one leg and bunched around his chest. He looked incredibly uncomfortable.

When the kettle whistled, Kaneki jumped. He hadn't even realized how much time had passed until the damn thing was screaming, so he ran back to the stove and flicked it off, pouring the steaming water into the two cups he'd set aside. He did his best with what he was given, but since he hadn't been grocery shopping in about two weeks, literally all he had was instant coffee, half a cup of sugar, and milk that had gone bad nine days prior. He decidedly tossed that into the trash.

He took a tentative sip of his cup, and he grimaced.

This is the shittiest cup of coffee I've ever made, he thought grimly.

He felt ashamed. Like a maestro of some ancient art, such as Venetian glass blowing, who'd created a gray, lackluster lump instead of a bright red, hand crafted miniature stallion he'd meant to fashion. What a crippling sensation, to feel as though one's art has been lost.

"Is that coffee I smell?" Hide mumbled as Kaneki set his cup against the coffee table.

"Drink up." Kaneki collapsed into the stiff chair opposite the couch. "You're gonna need it, sleeping on that thing for a whole night."

"Heh…" Hide stretched his arms, making an odd mewling noise, like a cat pawing at the air. "Not so bad… I little rough 'round the edges, but me and ol' Rosebud got used to each other in the end…"

"Don't name my furniture," Kaneki said flatly. He pushed Hide's coffee closer to him. Hide sat upright, tossing the blanket aside and gripping the mug. He lifted it in a mock salute.

"Don't buy cheap, uncomfy furniture, then!" Hide took a long swig of his coffee, and he set the mug down. He was smiling. And then he gave a wild shudder. "Oooh, that's bad. That's bad coffee. Oh, man, I love you, but this is really bad."

"I can probably run and get us some coffee." Kaneki checked his phone for the time, which declared it was nearly seven. There were, of course, numerous places he could make a coffee run too. I should stay away from Anteiku, he thought, a wave of sadness crashing upon him. He didn't want to rule out Anteiku. In fact, Anteiku was the only place he really wanted to go right now. But how could he, with Mado and Amon sniffing around Kaneki's trail?

"Oh, I'm still gonna drink it!" Hide laughed brightly. "You think I'd make you run around Tokyo at the crack ass of dawn just to meet my whims? You'd be right. Go fetch me something delicious."

"You'd have to be a little more specific," Kaneki said with a slight eye roll. "Our perceptions of the word "delicious" have changed a lot."

"Have they though?" Hide gave a quick wink, taking up his mug again and leaning back. He waited for his joke to settle down and click.

When it did, Kaneki sunk into his seat and flushed.

"I changed my mind," he said flatly. "I am not willing to leave this apartment to do jack shit for you."

"Fair enough!" Hide rested his mug on his knee. "But honestly, if we're gonna talk delicious, I'd say Anteiku—"

"I'm just gonna stop you right there." Kaneki held up both his hands, closing his eyes so that he didn't have to look into Hide's. "Yes, from what I remember, Anteiku has really good deserts. Also, from what I remember, Touka could and would kick your ass into next Sunday, so I'd be careful with how I talk about her."

"Can she really?" When Kaneki opened his eyes, he noted that Hide's had lit up. "How do you know that? Kaneki, you dog! You asked for her number and she turned you down, didn't she? And beat you up for the trouble!"

"No." He almost wished it were that simple. That he could have been a normal boy with a crush on Touka. A crush on Kirishima Touka instead of Kamishiro Rize. That's what a wise boy would do. But there's nothing remotely wise in loving Touka either, he thought glumly. "Hide, let's talk straight here."

"Speak for yourself."

"What?"

Hide sipped his coffee. He arched an eyebrow. "Continue?"

He eyed Hide warily, but went on with his train of thought. "Okay," he said, flattening his hands in his lap, "so this stays between us. No one else can know."

Hide made a quick motion of zipping up his mouth, locking it up, and flicking the key aside like a used up cigarette butt.

"Touka… is a ghoul." He waited. He searched Hide's face. There was no reaction. Not even a hint of shock. "You don't seem surprised."

"After Miss Rize?" Hide scoffed. "I'm surprised you were the one who got the surprise ghoul date. I was close to asking Touka out myself."

"She would have declined," Kaneki said, though he couldn't really tell how serious Hide was. If he had to take a wild guess, probably between teasing and sarcastic. Hide wasn't the dating type.

"Aw." Hide pouted. "Got some hunk of a ghoul boyfriend, or something?"

"No. It's just… difficult for ghouls and humans to…" Kaneki sighed. Hide snorted into his mug.

"You can say it," he barked, his laughter erratic. "What, don't ghouls fuck the same as humans?"

"Well, I mean—!" Kaneki flushed, biting his tongue as a growl arose from the back of his throat.

"I'm joking, I'm joking!" Hide waved his hand quickly, blinking rapidly. "I'm sure ghoul sex ed is about the same as human sex ed. And interspecies dating would, understandably, be difficult."

"Not impossible, though," Kaneki murmured, thinking of Nishiki and Kimi as wells as Yoshimura and his late wife.

"So, Touka is a ghoul." Hide whirled his finger around in the air. "Big whoop. I still like Anteiku. Don't you?"

"I love Anteiku," he blurted without thought. Hide tilted his head, and he smiled. That seemed to interest him, and make him somewhat happy. Kaneki was fumbling with his fingers nervously, and he sighed. "I mean… I really like going there, but with my current situation…"

"The CCG thing?" Hide pursed his lips. "Which, by the way, was the stupidest thing ever. Stupid."

"Yeah, I know, I know." Kaneki wrung his hands in his lap. "But Anteiku is literally run by ghouls— good ghouls! I went there the night I… I told you. Before I turned myself in… and the manager there, he gave me— uh, food…"

"Human flesh," Hide clarified with a curt nod. It was nonchalantly spoken. Yes, he was saying, I too know the topsy-turvy ways of the ghouls.

"Right. He gave it to me, and he told me to come back any time I needed help." Kaneki's eyes were wide and his voice was squeaky from desperation to get his message across clearly. "They're good people there. They like humans, and not as meals, but as actual people. They help ghouls who can't help themselves, and they don't kill people."

Hide was quiet. He sat, gripping his mug as its steam rose and curled around his nose and mouth. Reluctantly, he smiled.

"Sounds like a fairy tale," he murmured.

"It's true," Kaneki said firmly. "I swear."

"I believe you, man." Hide cracked a grin, and he set his mug aside. "Okay, I get it. Anteiku is a nice place full of nice people. It's nice, it's willing to help you, it solved your food problem, and you love it there… so now you're hopped on the CCG train and you're going to punish yourself and never go to that place again."

"That's putting it rather harshly, I think."

"I'm sorry." Hide's smile fell, and he looked momentarily confused. "I thought you wanted me to be more confrontational about stuff I'd normally keep to myself. Like how when you start liking something too much you start putting it at a distance."

"That's not true!" Kaneki's eyes were wide, and he knew it was a lie. He jerked his face away, scratching his cheek. "I haven't put you at a distance." Yet.

"And for that, I'm eternally grateful." Hide rolled his eyes. "Real talk here. Going to Anteiku a few times won't lead the CCG to raid the place. In fact, it'll be more suspicious of you just stop showing up altogether. The CCG is clever, okay, they'll be doing all their research, plugging in data about all the places you regularly visited pre-surgery and all the places you visit now, post-surgery. They will notice you stopped going to Anteiku at some point, and they will investigate it." Hide pointed at Kaneki, his face eerily blank. "If you punish yourself, you'll punish them."

Kaneki wasn't sure how much he liked confrontational Hide.

But he sure got his message across loud and clear.

"Hide, I'm going to be working for the CCG." He folded his hands, his thumbs rubbed up against each other, twiddling rapidly. "I can't just go in there if I have Amon or Mado at my back!"

"Then don't go in there when they're with you?" Hide rolled his eyes. "Don't go in there when you're on duty? The CCG is smart, but unless someone tips them off, they won't be looking to Anteiku for suspicious activity."

"How do you know?" Kaneki snapped.

Hide stared at him. Kaneki felt immediately guilty for lashing out, because Hide was giving him a blank, bemused look. Innocent of all crimes, guileless and confused. Like a kicked puppy. How could Kaneki really expect Hide to be a hundred percent positive, and have immediate explanations for theories he probably cooked up on the spot?

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

"No worries, bro." Hide ruffled his twisted, matted hair, and he grimaced. "Ew, my hair's greasy as hell."

"It looks fine," Kaneki offered.

"You've never dyed your hair, buddy. You don't understand this kind of suffering." Hide cracked a grin, and Kaneki could only smile back weakly. He thought of his hair after Aogiri's torture, snowy white and coarse as straw. It had fallen limply across his forehead, never quite clean enough, always looking frizzy and split, like he could never get it healthy.

"Fair enough."

"So…" Hide stretched back, turning his eyes toward the ceiling. "You work for the CCG now. You know that's dangerous, right? They don't care about ghouls at all. You might just be an experiment to them."

Kaneki took his coffee mug in his hands, warmth radiating against his cold palms, and he smiled vacantly.

"I'm banking on it," he said.

Hide left sometime later, returning home to shower and do some last minute homework. He warned Kaneki not to miss too much school, or else he'd be at the point of a mental break when exams rolled around. Kaneki didn't want to tell him that he didn't plan on continuing school. But perhaps this time, it would make sense for Kaneki to continue with his schooling.

To pass the time, Kaneki ended up picking up some old novels he hadn't touched since the beginning of high school. He had a few foreign classics, some things by Kafka, Hugo, two books full of sonnets by Shakespeare and Petrarch respectively, and a worn leather copy of one Divine Comedy that he'd bought at a yard sale Hide had dragged him to in his second year. Hide had mocked him for it. You learning Italian now, buddy?

The book was so old that it had not yet been translated adequately into English, let alone Japanese. But Kaneki thought that had been part of its charm.

He picked up the book, thumbing through it pensively. It was easy to train his eyes to read from left to right, but Italian was nothing like English, and the words were so flippant and complicated and yet, clipped and to the point. There were apostrophes in places Kaneki didn't think needed apostrophes. Romantic languages seemed to be filled with a delicate, ornate style that Germanic languages seemed to lack out of spite.

A knock broke him out of his reverie just as he was trying to puzzle out the subtle nuances of modern linguistics.

He set the book aside and moved cautiously toward the door. When he peered through the peephole, he sighed, unlocking his door and swinging it open.

"Come in," he told Amon, turning away from the doorway. The man was very bulky, filling up most of the doorframe, and he ducked into the room as though it was too short for his stature. It wasn't. He was lowering himself in an attempt to seem more approachable. It was kinda admirable.

"Good morning, Kaneki," he greeted, using the same clipped, softly familiar tone of Kaneki-san he'd adopted the day before. "You look better."

It was true, yesterday he'd looked quite like a ghost. Dark hair matted around a pallid face, sunken eyes and chapped, thin lips. Not to mention how skinny he'd become because the sudden weight loss. Today at least his hair was combed, and he was wearing fresh clothing that seemed to fit. There was no helping the bags under his eyes or his complexion, though.

"Thank you, sir." Kaneki folded up the blanket Hide had used the night before and tucked it in a bin beside the couch. "Do you want some coffee? It's disgusting, but strong."

Amon looked at him, blinking rapidly before smiling. "Sure," he said. "Just no milk, please."

"Yeah, I don't have any milk, so don't worry." Kaneki went through the motions of making instant coffee again, tossing the kettle back onto the stove. "You're lactose intolerant?"

"Yes. Though it's honestly not so bad, just… mildly inconvenient."

Mildly inconvenient dietary restrictions, Kaneki thought, pulling his glass cup full of sugar across the countertop. Say it isn't so.

"It's nice of Mr. Mado to keep lactates at hand for you," Kaneki said absently.

Amon was quiet. Kaneki scooped a spoonful of sugar into the cup, listening to the grains crunch together.

"Kaneki, what Mado did to you yesterday was wrong."

The kettle began to whistle.

Kaneki stared at his wall, cupping the glass of sugar in both hands. Steam blew into his eyes and screamed into his ears.

This world is wrong.

Shaky words from a strong man in a strange place on a stressful night.

"Kaneki…"

He turned the stove off and shifted the screeching kettle. He turned around to face the man.

"What would you have done to me if I wasn't half human?" he asked vacantly. Amon looked alarmed, and he turned his eyes away.

"I suppose we would have apprehended you, so long as you didn't put up a fight…"

"And of course I would have," Kaneki said quietly, "because I'd be terrified. But ghouls can't plead self-defense, can they?"

Amon's eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry about what happened to you," he said firmly. "But you need to remember that ghouls are not your friends or your kin just because you are similar to them now. You seem like a good person, Kaneki. You care about people."

He had to turn away at that. Caring about people seemed to get him in the worst situations. Caring about humans, caring about ghouls. Why did everyone expect him to choose?

He poured the water into the mug, and he shrugged. "I don't think being a good person is solely attributed to the human part of me," he said carefully, offering out the mug. "But thanks."

"You're also a pretty confusing guy." Amon offered a half smile. "Did you know Kamishiro Rize was a ghoul before you dated her?"

"Nope. If I did I wouldn't have gone out with her." Kaneki thumbed the rim of his mug. "She was terrifying."

"And she was your only real run in with a ghoul, I assume." Amon shot him a puzzled glance as he took the mug from Kaneki. "So why? Why do you talk about ghouls so… defensively?"

"Because I am one."

"No ghoul has the experience you have." Amon took a sip of his coffee, and he managed not to make a face. In fact, he didn't seem to mind it at all. "You are singularly unique, Kaneki, because you are neither human nor ghoul."

Kaneki couldn't help but smile at that. "You're right," he said, staring into Amon's dark eyes. "I'm both. So please, understand why I feel obligated to speak candidly. I relate to ghouls and humans equally. What I say is just representative of that."

"And you sound so certain." Amon shrugged, sipping at his coffee absently. "I can't blame you. You haven't really gotten the real horrific experience of ghoul investigating yet. You'll understand soon, when you're out in the field."

"Wait, what?" Kaneki stood up straight, his eyes snapping wide. "Am I already approved by the CCG to do stuff?"

"You have an interview with an investigator of higher rank than Mado," Amon told him, walking over to the coffee table and setting his mug down. He dug through his pockets and retrieved a folded envelope, handing it off to Kaneki. He sat down as he glanced over the stamp that labeled it official CCG documentation, the weird dove sigil. "You're to report to a different ward's headquarters, considering you're a bit of a priority case. The directions are in there, but I'd advise taking the subway if possible."

"Okay." Kaneki sat down. He unfolded the envelope, flattening out the paper against this knee. Amon watched, taking a few quick sips of his coffee as Kaneki rifled through the paperwork. There were some things here that looked like he needed a lawyer present to sign. "Amon, if I sign these, will the CCG have the right to dissect me, or something?"

Amon snorted into his mug. "That won't happen," he assured quickly.

"The CCG isn't exactly known for its mercy toward ghouls." Kaneki stared up at the man with wide, imploring eyes. "Amon, please. What is all this?"

Amon's gaze softened considerably, and he cautiously moved closer to Kaneki's chair. He loomed over the table, a yawning shadow that gobbled up everything in sight. And then he knelt beside Kaneki's chair, and he took the papers gingerly from Kaneki's white-knuckled hands.

"Hm…" Amon's eyes flickered across the tops of each paper. He thumbed through the first three, and he set the others aside. "Okay, so this one is your map, your directions, the investigator you're meeting with, all that. This one," Amon placed his hand flat against the paper so it didn't fold up on the table, "is a basic health form. They want your medical records. Don't freak out, just contact your regular doctor, fax this form to him, have him email it to the CCG. Easy. Now this one…" He moved on to the third paper. He pointed to it, and met Kaneki's eye. They were almost eyelevel. "It's a liability waiver. You're basically signing over your right to a legal suit against the CCG for any injury you receive while working there. It's like any job, really. Except you have a much higher chance of dying while working as a ghoul investigator."

"Is that all?" Kaneki asked flatly.

"No." Amon picked up the rest of the papers. "This one is basic info about the CCG, things you need to have in order, also the benefits you get. You'll be fed and sheltered if need be, your hospital bills will be paid for, your funeral— if need be— will be a public ceremony sponsored by the CCG. General stuff."

"I love it when job benefits include funerary fees," Kaneki said with the faux enthusiasm of a man speaking to his executioner.

"Trust me, it's a really nice thing." Amon shifted through the papers with a somber expression. "Many investigators don't have families. Many do, and their families can't afford the kind of funeral investigators deserve. This is for the best."

"Okay." Kaneki couldn't help but agree when it was put like that. And, honestly, he'd never really thought about his funeral before. Who would pay for such a thing? They were costly affairs, after all.

"This one is tax stuff," Amon tossed that onto the table. "This one is a basic overview of your job description and another place you have to sign, just read over it to make sure nothing looks weird to you. Or you can wait until your interview tomorrow."

He thought about his interview with Mado back at Cochlea, and he grimaced. "If I don't pass this… evaluation," he said, choosing his words carefully, "will I get sent back to ghoul prison?"

Amon glanced at him. He bowed his head, and gathered up the papers into a neat pile.

"I'm not exactly sure," he admitted.

"Damn." Kaneki rubbed his face tiredly.

"For what it's worth, it'll go much smoother than the one with Mado did." Amon tried to look reassuring, but his expression merely made Kaneki shudder. He didn't want to think about it. "And once this is over, you'll be given the okay to start working. You will definitely need to be careful, though, since you've never been in any real fights before. Have you?"

"Um…" Kaneki wondered how he should reply, because regardless it would be a lie. "I think like, when I was in middle school there were scuffles, but…"

"Right." Amon nodded firmly. "Don't worry, you'll get proper training before you're out in the field."

"Really?" Kaneki was curious. What did training mean? Was it like training with Touka? If so, he'd much rather train with Touka than Amon. "Thank you."

"Don't worry so much, Kaneki." Amon smiled, and it was a small, genuine little thing that sat at the corners of his mouth and made the corners of his eyes wrinkle. Kaneki was surprised. This time, instead of Kaneki-san, he'd said Kaneki-kun. "We're not evil, and we do want to help you. Your offer has been the buzz of the office building all day."

"All encouraging buzz, I'd imagine," Kaneki said dryly.

"Once they actually meet you it will be different."

"Yeah." Kaneki nodded quickly. "Yeah, of course. I'm not a monster."

He wasn't really sure how true that was. Monsters came in all shapes in sizes. And he had sullied himself far too much to claim any sort of innocence.

Amon reached for his mug, but instead his hand found the worn leather cover of the book Kaneki had been looking at when he'd knocked. He dragged it closer, and Kaneki watched vacantly as he pulled it into his lap.

"La Divina Commedia," he read off the spine of the book, easy syllables falling from his lips, as though his tongue had been tempered by Roman aqueducts. "Purgatorio. Are you reading this?"

"I don't understand Italian." Kaneki gave a weak shrug. "I kinda bought it on a whim when I was younger."

"Oh. So you're probably missing the others."

"What others?"

"There are three." Amon opened the cover gingerly, as though it might fall apart at any given moment. "Inferno, Dante's most well known work, Purgatorio, which is what you have here, and the finally, Paradiso. Hell, Purgatory, and Paradise."

"Oh, right. I guess I didn't even know which one I had." Kaneki glanced away. "That's embarrassing. I'm a literature student."

Amon wasn't listening. He was looking at the inside of the book. Or, possibly, actually reading it.

"Amon?"

He looked up. He'd already flipped through the book, decidedly skimming through some bits. He looked down again.

"Ed elli a me: 'La grave condizione di lor tormento a terra li rannicchia sì che i miei occhi pria n'ebber tencione. Ma guarda fiso là, e disviticchia col viso quell che vien sotto a quei sassi: già scorger puoi come ciascun si picchia.'" The words were less fluidly spoken than the title, but Amon still held a steady grasp on how to pronounce these foreign words, and Kaneki merely sat, stunned. He felt like he was sitting with Tsukiyama, as though perhaps nothing had happened, that he was back with Hinami and Banjou and that ragtag gang that he'd assembled.

But no. It was just Koutarou Amon reading Italian.

Somehow this was freakier than it would've been if it'd been Tsukiyama. At least in some way, the rapid Italian would make sense coming from him.

This was simply weird.

"Wow," Kaneki remarked. "You know Italian?"

Amon frowned. "I know La Divina Comedia," he said. He shrugged, and he closed his eyes. "Let me think… was it, "And he said to me: 'What…ever makes them suffer their heavy torment bends them to the ground; at first I was… uh… not sure of what they were. But look intently there, and let your eyes unravel what's beneath those stones: you can already see what penalty strikes each.'"

Kaneki sat with his hands between his knees. He stared with wide eyes, a tight smile on his lips.

"Oh," he said weakly.

Amon clapped the book shut and rested it on the table. "Thank you for the coffee," he said, standing up. "I'd suggest getting a copy in a language you understand, to help you puzzle out the rest of Purgatory."

"Thank you for your help," Kaneki said vacantly. "And… for reading that. I'll definitely go ahead and buy a copy in Japanese."

"That's probably wise." Amon nodded. "I'll see you soon, Kaneki."

He offered out his hand, and Kaneki lifted himself from his chair to warily shake it.

At sure I was not sure of what they were, Kaneki thought. He stared at Amon, and he bit his lip sheepishly. "Um," he said, "what exactly was Dante talking about? In that quote you read?"

"Oh." Amon shook his head. "Well, that was spoken by Virgil, I think. They were looking at the arrogant, whose burden basically bent them so low to the ground that they looked inhuman."

"They were brought down to earth," Kaneki murmured.

"Ha, that's one way to put it." Amon smiled. "I honestly never really understood any of it. I just know that the people looked so distorted, they no longer looked like people. It's a pretty gruesome tale."

"No, I mean the prideful were humbled. That's basically the punishment they received." Kaneki blinked rapidly. "I need to go buy this book."

"You go do that." Amon laughed, waving him goodbye. "And don't get into any trouble. The CCG can't promise to protect you."

"I think I can take care of myself," Kaneki said, waving back at the man with a small smile. "But thanks, Amon."

The CCG building he had to go to for his meeting looked about the same as the other CCG. It might have been bigger. Kaneki wasn't really sure. He spent the journey there, which was not a very long trip, biting his cuticles and avoiding making eye contact with the other passengers. He was used to just walking everywhere. The subway was kinda new.

He also thought about Anteiku. What Hide had said. Avoiding his problems had always made things worse in the past. And avoiding Anteiku— he'd been a fool the first time around. He didn't want to make the same mistakes, or else, well, was any of this even worth it?

On his way from the subway station to the CCG headquarters he'd bumped into a kid. A familiar wave of déjà vu hit him as the kid bowed quickly, apologizing in a soft, giddy little voice that reminded Kaneki of childhood. Then the kid was off, bustling down a street and into a crowd, and Kaneki was left with the odd, numbing sensation that he'd been here before.

That person… smelled really good… It was an irritating thing, to be so tuned in to sense of smell that the soft, tantalizing aroma of some kid on a street made him hungry.

He sat in a waiting area after telling the receptionist his name. He felt like he was waiting for a doctor's appointment.

"Kaneki Ken?"

When Kaneki looked up, he found that the man who had spoken was broad-shouldered, heavily built middle-aged man. He was wearing a suit, as Amon had been the day before, and holding a bundle of papers in his large hands. When Kaneki stood, the man turned his face, and Kaneki noticed his large, kind eyes and his soft smile. He was a pretty large guy, but Kaneki got the impression that though he looked very sturdy, and his hair was shorn in a closely cropped militaristic style, he was far from intimidating.

"Hello," he said, gripping the strap of his beige messenger bag and staring up at the man. "Um. Shinohara Yukinori…?"

"Kaneki Ken." The man smiled warmly, and he offered out his massive hand. Kaneki took it, blinking at the firmness of his handshake. "Wow, look at you! Wait, how old are you?"

"I'm… eighteen…?" Kaneki had to think about it. His age. He'd nearly forgotten.

"Right, right, okay, just making sure." Shinohara placed his hand gently on Kaneki's back and ushered him toward the RC detector. "You look younger. Oh, this is going to go off by the way, don't worry—"

Shinohara stopped as Kaneki moved through the RC detector smoothly, glancing back at the machine as it kept itself quiet in spite of its encounter with a ghoul.

"Huh." Shinohara tilted his head. "That's funny. I'll have to make a call to make sure this thing is working."

"That detects ghouls," Kaneki said, jerking his thumb at the machine. "Right?"

"Yeah, that's its main purpose. I expect Mado's already given you the gist of RC stuff." Shinohara led him through a hall. They passed by people, but none of them gave Kaneki so much as a glance. Perhaps it wasn't common knowledge that Shinohara was interviewing the infamous half-ghoul boy.

"Yeah…" Kaneki looked down at his feet. "Um… about Mr. Mado…"

"He's a lot to take in." Shinohara shot Kaneki a sympathetic glance. They were headed up a flight of pale steps. It seemed the CCG was very brightly lit, and very white. Doves, he thought vacantly, glancing around the expansive building. "Personally, I wouldn't want to be his underling if I were in your shoes. He's not the most open minded fellow."

"No."

Kaneki must have sounded more angry and bitter than he'd meant to, because Shinohara stopped in the middle of the steps to turn back to him. People passed by them, this time shooting confused glances.

"Did he do something?" Shinohara asked.

"What…?"

"Kaneki," Shinohara said in a very soft, very fond voice, "Mado is a good man. But good men are still very flawed. If Mado did or said something to you, something that might have made you feel uncomfortable, you should tell me."

Kaneki's eyes were very wide. He felt like he was in middle school, like he was about to tattle on some kid for making a mean comment. It was humbling to be staring up at a man who seemed to know exactly what to say to make Kaneki feel like a child.

"It's…" Kaneki didn't know. He didn't want to say anything. It could make his situation worse, if everyone knew, couldn't it? He needed to be careful. He wanted to convince the CCG that some ghouls could be trusted, but to do that he also needed to convince them that he was human enough to protect.

"You don't have to tell me," Shinohara said. "I won't make you. But it might make you feel better to talk about it."

Talking about things. What a foreign concept.

"Can… we not talk about it here?" Kaneki glanced around the stairwell sheepishly.

Shinohara blinked. And then he laughed heartily. "Oh. Of course. Come on, then. This way."

They headed up the stairs, moving at a brisk pace through the hall and into a room. Shinohara closed the door behind them and offered Kaneki a seat. It was a generic looking office, though there was a window that overlooked the Tokyo skyline, which was something Kaneki appreciated. It was difficult to say if this was Shinohara's office, since it had no personality, and there was nothing to suggest that anyone really used it.

"Okay." Shinohara did not sit on the other side of the desk, but instead dragged the other chair closer to Kaneki, and flipped it around so they were facing each other. He folded his hands in his lap, and he looked at Kaneki expectantly. "Please explain. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone, or get anyone into trouble."

Kaneki sat, staring at the man vacantly. He felt so indefinably at ease, and it was jarring to him, because he didn't know this man, and he didn't want to trust this man, but somehow it was impossible not to believe that he was exactly what he seemed. His demeanor reminded Kaneki quite a bit of Banjou.

"It's not really a big deal," he said quickly. "Um… well, he bought ice cream for a friend of mine, and Amon, and… well, he already knew I can't eat normal food anymore." Kaneki shifted uncomfortably. Shinohara watched him intently. "But he insisted, so… I mean, it's really not a big deal!"

"Your taste buds have changed, right?" Shinohara leaned back in his seat. "What did it taste like?"

Kaneki grimaced. "I don't think you really want to know."

"No, I do." Shinohara's eyes widened. "Please, tell me."

"Uh… well…" Kaneki shifted in his seat. "Honestly, like… like licking cold piss off the floor of a public bathroom."

"Well that's vivid!" Shinohara gave a hearty laugh, a booming fatherly chuckle that surprised Kaneki. "And understandably awful! Listen, Kaneki, your situation is not a good one. I won't sugar coat it. Your life is gonna be hard to manage from now on, if you want to survive in the CCG, and in the human world. It might have been easier for you to abandon your humanity and run off into the bowels of Tokyo. Join a nasty ghoul organization, kill people to survive."

Kaneki sat in a stunned silence. You're not wrong, he thought sadly.

"But," Shinohara continued, speaking so firmly that he could probably pin an elephant in place, "that's not what you did. You went to the CCG, which was a pretty bold choice, and you turned yourself in without thinking about the consequences. You're a very brave boy, Kaneki Ken." He smiled, and it made his face seem worn and soft. "It's important that what you did for yourself and for others is remembered. What Mado did was for his own reasons, and I'll have a discussion with him— oh, please don't make that face, Kaneki, it's important that you're treated well. You are a person. You deserve to be treated as such."

Kaneki couldn't find the words to respond. He simply sat dazedly in the chair facing this man, this ghoul investigator who was so irrationally kind, and so unbearably intuitive. He knew exactly what Kaneki needed to hear.

"Thank… you," Kaneki said distantly.

"This meeting was supposed to be an evaluation, to see if you're actually fit, psychologically, to work for the CCG." Shinohara shrugged, rolling his eyes. "I'm not a psychiatrist. The CCG has never cared before if a person was "psychologically fit" or whatever. If they did, they'd hire someone with a real degree to talk to the people here who have a lot of internalized issues that they can't work out by themselves."

"So what you're saying is that they only care with me because I'm a ghoul." Kaneki grimaced. "Fair enough, I guess. But… if it's any consolation, I think you're really good at this."

Shinohara smiled, his head bowing a bit as his shoulder jerked in a half chuckle. "That's sweet of you," he said. "Honestly half the time I ask myself if I'm really doing any good? But it's worth it in the end. Anyway, I'm just going to ask you a couple questions. You don't have to answer, but these are things the CCG wants to know. Okay?"

"Let's go." Kaneki made a gesture, as if to tell Shinohara to hit him with his best shot. Shinohara smirked, and nodded.

The questions were similar to the ones Mado had asked, but Shinohara gave Kaneki the chance to explain himself. Kaneki was able to fully express how though his appetite dictated the need to eat people, he was dead set against doing so. He was also able to warn Shinohara that he'd become very dangerous if left starving, and that he was pretty sure that was simply the case with all ghouls, that hunger left them in a frenzy, and there wasn't much humanity left.

"You think other ghouls have humanity?" Shinohara asked curiously.

"I think it'd be ignorant to assume all ghouls are mindless beasts," Kaneki replied.

"Well said."

In the end, Kaneki ended up liking Shinohara a whole lot. Like, more than Kaneki had ever expected to like anyone in the CCG. He liked speaking to this man more than he liked even Amon, who had a tendency to dance around the topic of Kaneki being a ghoul. Shinohara addressed that. He didn't remind Kaneki of his human side, or splice him into sections, as though there was a clear distinction between himself and the ghoul organs inside him. He was very considerate, and he took Kaneki's words to heart, writing down his answers and asking questions about his sleeping habits, if he was feeling anxious or depressed since the operation, if he'd experimented with medication yet.

Kaneki was able to leave, and as he was walking toward the RC detector he heard someone calling his name. He turned, only to find Shinohara jogging toward him. There was a child gliding at his back, chin lifted toward the ceiling. When they were close enough, Kaneki was hit with a familiar aroma, the mixture of caramelized apples doused in cinnamon, cherry syrup, and something artificial, like jolly ranchers melting in someone else's mouth.

"Oh, hey!" Kaneki gasped, pointing at the child. "It's you!"

"Juuzou," Shinohara said to the child sternly. They glanced up at the man with enormous, cloudy red eyes, and they puffed out their cheeks. They turned on their heels and marched up to Kaneki, grabbing his wrist with small, dexterous fingers, and clapping something into his hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Kaneki Ken!" Juuzou chirped, drawing out every syllable with a sweet, sing song note. Ka-ne-ki Ke-en!

"Oh." Kaneki blinked rapidly. He looked down at the kid's hand, which was pale and bony, red string sticking out of his skin. Stitches? Beneath the hand, Kaneki saw his wallet. He blinked rapidly, and recalled that this had happened before, that this person, Juuzou, had stolen his wallet once. Kaneki couldn't find it in him to feign surprise. "Oh. That's my wallet."

"Juuzou," Shinohara said once again in the same stern tone. Juuzou sighed loftily.

"I am so—" Their apology was loud and almost sarcastic, clearly forced and irritated. Kaneki cut in, taking his wallet from Juuzou quickly and beaming at them.

"You found my wallet!" he gasped, his fingers brushing his chin on their way to clapping Juuzou on the shoulder. "Thank you so much, I thought I left it on the subway!"

Juuzou stared at him with large eyes and a gaping mouth. Shinohara looked just as stunned.

"Uh…" Juuzou glanced back at Shinohara. They didn't seem to know what to do or say now.

He didn't know why he did it. He supposed he understood Shinohara's intention of making Juuzou apologize, but he didn't want either of them to feel bad about it. Looking at Juuzou, Kaneki now understood a lot of Shinohara's demeanor. He was clearly in charge of Juuzou in some way, and that responsibility must have made given him the insight he'd used with Kaneki. A comfortable, fatherly figure with helpful advice to spare.

"Kaneki… Juuzou didn't…" Shinohara didn't seem to want Kaneki to be deluded into thinking Juuzou had actually rescued his wallet. So Kaneki shot him a glance, and a knowing smile, and he shrugged.

"No, it's fine," he said, "let me make it up to you both. I don't really have anything to do, and I'm not super into bracing the subway again, so maybe I can treat you guys to lunch?"

Juuzou perked up considerably, their head jerking toward Shinohara excitedly. Shinohara stared at Kaneki for a long time.

"Kaneki… that's very nice of you, but are you sure…?"

"Please." Kaneki smiled at him warmly. "It's… been awhile since I've really gone out. It'd be fun."

"Shinohara!" Juuzou was bouncing on the balls of their feet, still gripping Kaneki's wrist. Their grip had tightened, as though they were now far too reluctant to ever actually let go. "Shinohara, please, please, please, pretty please with sugar and cherries and sprinkles and—!"

"Okay, okay," Shinohara laughed. "Calm down, Juuzou, we'll go. Let me just go get my coat."

"Yay!" Juuzou looped their arm between Kaneki's hooking them together happily. "Can I get dessert, Kaneki?"

"Sure, if that's what you want."

"Awesome!" Juuzou bounced happily in place. "You're awesome!" They bounced back, and offered out their bony hand, beaming up at Kaneki. "I'm Suzuya Juuzou!"

Kaneki laughed, and shook their hand. "Pleased to meet you," he said, making them burst into a fit of sharp little giggles, likely because he'd intentionally used the same tone they had upon meeting him. "Those stitches are really interesting."

"Hm?" Juuzou looked down at their arm, and they cracked a grin. "You like them?"

"They're cool," he said, blinking down at their arm. "But didn't that hurt?"

They shook their head. "Nah." They shrugged nonchalantly. "Would it hurt you if I sewed you up?"

"Probably…" Kaneki smiled weakly. "Please don't do that."

"Ha ha! Don't be so squirmy!" Suzuya poked him in the stomach. "I won't actually do it! I was just wondering, since Shinohara said you're not like other people, and to be careful."

"Careful?" Kaneki felt his stomach drop in disappointment. "Of… me…?"

"What?" Suzuya squinted at him. "No way, be careful that I don't spook you. He said something like, 'Now Kaneki has got a lot of stuff on his mind, so don't you go teasing him with your usual bullshit!'" Suzuya snickered. "He didn't say that. But basically he said not to scare you. Did I scare you yet?"

"Are you trying to scare me?"

"Oh, no!" Suzuya shook their head. "No, no, you'd know if I was trying to scare you. But I think it's funny. You know?" They cocked their head, fluffy white hair bunching against their round cheeks. "I'm getting told not to go ahead and scare a ghoul."

Kaneki averted his eyes. He spotted Shinohara across the room, and he hoped this wasn't a huge mistake. "Does that… bother you, Suzuya?" he asked tentatively.

"What?"

"That I'm a ghoul."

Suzuya gave a mighty scoff. "Why should I care?" they hummed, reeling back on their heels. "I mean I guess I'd kill you if I was told to, but I like you! You're buying me sweets."

"Uh…" Kaneki laughed nervously. "Fair enough, I guess."

I'd kill you if I was told to.

This was Kaneki's life now. Even if he made friends, it was possible that they might be forced into playing a hand in his execution. Some time. Some place. Maybe tomorrow, or maybe never.

The possibilities were endless in this new, fucked up world.

Chapter Text

"Yooo! Bring me a coffee, Jeeves!"

Kaneki slammed the door shut in Hide's face.

The suit he had to wear to work at the CCG was no fancier than the uniform at Anteiku. It was simply a black suit coat over an ironed white button down. Kaneki wore a tie. That was about it. It felt no different than a school uniform. Unfortunately it was more expensive than a school uniform, so he'd been given these clothes by Amon a few days before. He didn't know where they'd come from, but they fit him well enough, so he couldn't complain.

Hide poked his head through the door, making a pouty face. "How rude! Do they not teach you manners at the Butler Academy of Butlering?" He kicked Kaneki's door open and strolled in, throwing his backpack onto Kaneki's couch and throwing his body with it about a second later.

"Get your shoes off the couch," Kaneki said, moving quickly to rescue his books from the threat of the coffee mug that sat on the table near Hide.

"Me and Rosebud have a special relationship, Kaneki, I can wear my sneakers if I wanna."

"That's cute," Kaneki said, setting his books aside. "Get your shoes off the couch."

"Yeesh!" Hide stretched his arms behind his head and twisted his body so his legs were dangling off the side of the couch. "Fine, grouchy!"

Kaneki washed out his coffee cup, drizzling soap into it and swiping the inside of the mug with a rag. Hide had sat up on the couch behind him, eyes big and curious.

"So you're starting today, huh?"

"Oh, no," Kaneki laughed, turning his head back to smirk at Hide, "I'm going to a funeral."

Hide smirked right back, giving a minute eye roll to suggest he'd caught on. "Oh yeah? Who died?"

"A good old friend of mine named GPA." Kaneki set his mug into the drying rack, turning to face Hide as he rung the rag in his hands. "God rest his soul."

Hide barked a sharp, obscenely loud laugh. "Godspeed, GPA!" Hide shouted, doing a mock salute at no one in particular. "Quite frankly, you never had a chance!"

Kaneki covered his mouth, his laughter bubbling up in his chest and falling in soft patters from his mouth, like rain battering against window glass. It was nice to just laugh. This felt so light. Everything felt so light for once, like a burden had been lifted for just a few moments, and he could just breathe easy knowing that Hide was here, that Hide was breathing, that Hide knew about Kaneki's struggles and he still came over every day, still loved and trusted and cared for Kaneki for some inexplicable reason.

What had happened in the past— in the future that no longer existed— did not matter. Not when it came to Hide.

"Is this CCG thing gonna conflict with school that much?" Hide gave a little pout. "Why can't you just work part time? Don't they know you're a student?"

"They definitely know," Kaneki sighed, tossing the rag over the edge of the sink. "The CCG has its own school, and it's pretty unusual for someone to be pursuing a degree elsewhere. Maybe people just don't live that long. I don't know."

"Now don't say that," Hide laughed. "You should be safe with the CCG, right? You're not authorized to go ghoul hunting just yet, because you're so completely hopeless at fighting, right?" He laughed some more, and Kaneki smiled. Hide, as brash and bold as he was, was really good at knowing when to say the right things.

"I'm dropping out, Hide." Kaneki continued to smile as Hide's head jerked sharply in Kaneki's direction. The smile was tight and strained. He wasn't happy about it, but school was just too much to handle. It was so stressful, and for someone like him, it needed his full, undivided attention or else there would be a plethora of panic attacks that were simply unneeded.

"You're dropping out of school?" Hide sunk into the couch. All that was visible to Kaneki were tufts of blonde hair and dark roots that never seemed to actually grow out. "Oh. Well, I guess that makes sense. You'll be busy with work."

"I'd give anything to be a normal college student again," Kaneki murmured. "But right now it's impossible."

"You don't need to explain anything to me, bro." Hide stood, catching his backpack on his arm and adjusting his headphones around his neck. "I get it. School would be too much. But…"

Kaneki swallowed. There was a dry patch in his throat that made it difficult to swallow comfortably. He looked down at his hands. He hadn't put on the suit coat yet, so he was just wearing the white shirt and spare tie. He felt like this was a costume. Like he'd outgrown such normalcy like suit-and-tie attire. Did people really fight in these?

"But…?" Kaneki pressed, not comfortable with letting Hide leave with such a string of unbearable possibilities hanging on this one word.

Hide smiled at him sheepishly. "You don't plan on being with the CCG your whole life, do you?"

Kaneki blinked rapidly. It was something he hadn't really considered until this point. Or, really, in a very long time. What did the far future hold for him? Would he live that long? He'd been so preoccupied with the dangers of the present, it never occurred to him that his life was not meant to be long term. A life of hunting and being hunted could never be kept for long, no matter how well adjusted one became to it.

"I don't know, Hide," he said earnestly, standing with his arms hanging limply at his sides, his mind rushing in the horror of the future, which had always scared him. Anxiety had him in a headlock. He was struggling to feed air through his windpipe.

"Well I guess it doesn't matter much," Hide chirped, gripping his bag tightly. Kaneki nodded, nodding, nods, pressing his lips together thinly. He had to calm down, he knew it, but he was scared. What if none of this worked? What if more people got hurt because of this stupid choice he'd made?

The air tasted dry, and it scraped his throat, rubbing it red and raw. Whatever happened now, whatever happened, it would surely be Kaneki's fault.

"I mean, frankly," Hide said very loudly, "I have no fucking clue what I'm doing with my life. At least you have a job!"

"Y-yeah," Kaneki stammered, fidgeting with his sweaty hands. He didn't know what was wrong with him. Back before, he could compartmentalize. Depression was constant, anxiety and fear gnawing constantly at his heels, but he made it all bend at the will of his determination. He had to do what he did. That's just what he'd told himself back then, like a mantra, that he had to go this way, choose this path, bloody his teeth and bare them to the world. He'd outrun the fear and anxiety and depression.

But it always came back.

He'd never conquered anything.

He just kept running away.

What future did confrontation hold?

"Are you gonna be okay, Kaneki?"

Hide was standing right before him suddenly, smiling his easy, dopey smile, as though the world was just good laughs and good times, and it was such a pure, infectious thing. It made Kaneki smile too, even though his insides felt like they were all tied in knots and his mind was eating itself away in horror of what could be, what might happen, what he fucked up already.

"I think so," he said weakly.

Hide nodded firmly. "Good," he said. He turned away. "Okay, gotta head out now, or else I'll be half an hour late. If you need anything, just text me."

"Sure thing." Kaneki took a deep breath, closing his eyes. And then they snapped open. "Hide, wait!"

"Yeah?" Hide leaned against the door, blinking guilelessly.

"Nishio Nishiki. Don't go anywhere with him alone."

Hide smiled vacantly. "Oh, don't worry," he said with a bright laugh. "I don't really trust that guy much. Don't worry about me, Kaneki."

"But…"

"It's fine, buddy," Hide said gently, backing out the door. "It's just school."

Hide left the conversation at that. It should have made Kaneki feel better, but it didn't. He didn't want to be distrustful of Nishiki, but he had to remember how problematic the guy had been at first. God, he'd been an asshole. Kaneki had no idea how he was going to find a way around Nishiki's bad attitude, but he'd have to eventually, right?

He shrugged on his suit coat and set out. All in all, he felt simply out of place. The streets were packed with people, as customary with Tokyo, but with his current attire Kaneki felt so… adult. He supposed with all the things he'd been through, dressing in a suit and walking to work shouldn't be the disorienting experience that jarred him into the revelation that he was no longer a child.

It was a little annoying.

He didn't know what to expect, honestly, with this first day on the job thing. Nobody had really debriefed him on what the hell his job was going to be until he could get into the field. He supposed he should be grateful. He didn't have to worry about hunting his friends just yet.

"Amon." Kaneki spoke tentatively, having walked up behind the man and unsure as to how to get his attention. Amon jumped and whirled around.

"Oh, Kaneki!" His eyes were wide and astonished. "You snuck up on me. Wow, you're really quiet."

"Sorry," he said guiltily, giving a nervous laugh. Am I really that quiet, he wondered vacantly.

"No, it's fine." Amon didn't seem offended or anything, which was good. Kaneki still wasn't sure what to make of him. He seemed like a really nice man, someone with good intentions and a strong sense of morality. Kaneki hoped he was as open minded as he'd insinuated upon their past meetings.

Because right now, Kaneki really needed a friend in the CCG.

"Everything fits okay, right?" Amon inspected Kaneki's shoulder, pinching the fabric of the suit. "This seam is really worn. Sorry. We'll get you a newer suit after your first pay check."

"Oh, okay. Thank you."

Amon watched him. It wasn't a wary stare, or anything really unusual, but it put Kaneki in a weird position where he had to meet the man's gaze. Was he looking for approval? Kaneki didn't know. He couldn't get a read on this guy. He was just too… genuine. It was confusing.

"I know this is probably strange for you," Amon said. "We don't usually do things like this. Most people have to go through the academy before they can reach the point you're starting at."

"What point am I starting at?" Kaneki asked, ignoring the biting question that popped into his head, Why is there a dove academy?

"Rank 3 Field Investigator, Kaneki Ken." Amon flashed him a card, which Kaneki ignored at first, because he didn't really want to trouble himself with reading a flimsy bit of plastic. But then he realized the card had his face on it.

"Wait, what?" Kaneki took the card, flipping it over in his hands anxiously. Had he authorized this? He glanced at the picture, and he realized he had gone to get his picture taken earlier in the week. It hadn't occurred to him to ask what for. He'd just been going through the motions. Doing what he was told.

"Rank 3 is pretty much the standard start," Amon admitted, "but honestly, most people do have to go through a process before they can start working. You skipped that step. Congratulations, Kaneki. You're a ghoul investigator."

"Yay," he said faintly, tearing his eyes from the ID. He clutched it tightly, his arms falling to his side so he didn't have to have it so close to his face. The little flimsy scrap of plastic bit into his bloodless fingers. White knuckles hid it from view. He took a deep breath.

Amon was quiet, and Kaneki jerked himself out of the anxious stupor he'd fallen into, smiling big at Amon.

"I mean," he gasped, "thank you very much!"

"It's okay," Amon told him very gently. "It's only natural that you're nervous. You weren't given much of a say in any of this."

"No, it's fine," Kaneki said, stuffing the ID into his pocket. "I'll get used to it." Probably.

Amon didn't look so sure. He frowned at Kaneki, looking momentarily puzzled. Then he perked up. "Hey," he said, clapping Kaneki on the shoulder. "Let me show you around."

"Okay…" It wasn't like Kaneki had anything better to do.

He ended up being introduced to numerous investigators. Amon explained between introductions that most of these people were simply Bureau Investigators, which meant they did very, very little field work. This was the case with most CCG offices, except for the main headquarters, which was brimming with field investigators. That was where Kaneki had gone to meet with Shinohara.

Kusaba Ippei and Nakajima Yasunori, two bureau investigators who Amon had pulled Kaneki aside to introduce, seemed to be the most interested in Kaneki's inherent ghoulishness.

"So you're not really dangerous right?" Ippei asked flippantly, blinking at Kaneki from behind his thick, round glasses. "I mean, you wouldn't be here if you were."

"I don't think I'm dangerous," Kaneki said.

Maybe that wasn't a hundred percent true, but for now a little lie wouldn't hurt to get him in good graces.

"That's good," Ippei sighed in relief. "Honestly, we were all kinda worried. With what the CCG was thinking, authorizing a ghoul and all, but… you're not really a ghoul, right?"

Kaneki averted his eyes, feeling that he needed to take a moment to think over his reply. He probably had to be careful with how he responded, because making a good impression was vital here, but he just couldn't think of a good way to respond that was reasonable but truthful.

"Kaneki," Amon said, not really in any warning sense, but in a careful, inquisitive way. He was not asking if Kaneki was okay, not really, but the statement did imply he was worried.

"No," Kaneki finally said, looking into Ippei's eyes. "I really am a ghoul."

The man looked surprised, and his partner steadied him when he took a step back on reflex.

"He's an anomaly," Amon said quickly, shooting Kaneki a sharp glance. It seemed to be the first time since they'd first met that Amon was irritated with Kaneki's behavior. "He may have the abilities of a ghoul, but I expect everyone here to treat him with the respect and trust due to any other coworker. Is that clear?"

Kaneki stood very still, eyes enlarged and jaw clenched tightly shut. He was too alarmed to really say anything in response, and he didn't think he needed to. Both men nodded quickly, looking just as shocked as Kaneki was.

"Sorry," Ippei said sheepishly. "I didn't mean anything by it…"

"Ken!"

Kaneki flinched. He knew that voice, and he knew that awful tone, and he knew this dull atmosphere of silent judgment would only get more intense from here on.

"Mr. Mado." He gave a somewhat indifferent half-bow, wondering how strained his voice sounded. How annoyed he appeared.

"I just got an interesting word from HQ," he said with his great, wormy smirk firmly in place. "Come on, boy, let's walk."

"Um—!" Kaneki shot a frantic look at Amon, who merely nodded to him, as though that might alleviate Kaneki's discomfort. There was no help coming, not from Amon, not from anyone, so he reluctantly began to follow Mado down the hallway.

"You seem glum." Mado walked at a brisk pace, which caused Kaneki to wonder if maybe he'd misjudged the man's age based on his appearance. "Isn't this what you wanted, Ken?"

"Yes, sir," Kaneki said. He didn't know if that was true or not, but he knew it didn't matter, because it was what needed to be said. It was what had to be said.

"Then relax." Mado clapped him on the back. Kaneki jumped. "I won't hurt you. I know you're a little… eh…" Mado gave a little hand gesture, letting his hand wobble on his wrist as if to say, so-so. "You know, because of what I did at your university, but honestly I was just curious."

"You knew I couldn't eat anything," Kaneki murmured.

"Yes, I did." Mado smiled at him. How poisonous his smiles seemed to be. They made Kaneki's skin crawl. "The question was, of course, whether your friend knew."

Kaneki paused mid-step, and he shot a horrified glance at the back of Mado's head. "You… did that to test Hide?"

"I simply wanted to know how loyal he was." Mado waved offhandedly, his gloved fingers curling against the air. "Loyalty is so hard to come by these days."

"Hide has nothing to do with anything," Kaneki gasped, pushing forward and skidding to a stop before Mado, his eyes glazed with fury. "Don't ever use him like that again!"

Mado looked at him with raised eyebrows, his smirk dissipating as he squinted up at Kaneki. He turned his head curiously, studying Kaneki's face with a distant kind of scrutiny.

"It was a harmless experiment, Ken," Mado said.

"I don't care," he replied. "Hide has enough to worry about. If he wanted to take part in one of your "experiments" he'd join the CCG himself!" Kaneki took a deep breath, and he felt dizzy. And hungry. His stomach gave a pang, and he was filled with overwhelming distress over that fact.

"Huh." Mado folded his arms across his chest. "Are you hungry, Ken?"

"What?" Kaneki took a very large step back. He didn't understand. How could he know? Could he just sense these things? How inhuman was this man? "No, I—"

Mado tapped two fingers beneath one of his eyes. Kaneki watched bemusedly. And then, horrified, he reached up and felt the protruding red veins that crawled beneath his lower eyelid and across his cheekbone. He let out a small, shaky breath of absolute terror, and he clamped his hand over his eye.

"No," he murmured, his fingernails clawing into the sensitive skin of his eyelid, "no, no, no, no, no…"

"I wonder," Mado said distantly, "if you truly are different from them after all?"

Kaneki backed up into a wall, covering his kakugan with both hands. His fingers were trembling. Because he was scared. He needed to at least appear human to these people, and he… he'd thought he had this under control. It wasn't fair!

"You're awfully pathetic," Mado drawled.

Kaneki lowered his head. He hunched against the wall, wishing dearly that he could have the will to make everything go away, but he knew that he was too weak for such things, and it killed him inside.

He didn't know what to do. His dizziness had not subsided, and there was a nagging, gnawing little voice pressuring his brain. It sang to him in the song of whispers. Time to eat, eat, eat, eat, it hummed, time for meat, meat, meat. His stomach began to cramp, and though he knew this would subside for at least a bit of time, he felt absolutely overcome by the sense of desolation these pains put him in.

"Mr. Mado…" He sank to the floor, his back sliding down the wall and his eyes digging into his knees. "You… you should get away from me…"

"Oh?" Mado's voice was unreadable amongst the commotion inside Kaneki's head. "Do you think I'm scared of you, Ken?"

"I don't know…" Kaneki took a deep breath. "I'm sorry… I don't know what I've done… I shouldn't have come here… I shouldn't have…" They're going to kill me, he thought fearfully.

Of course he could easily fight his way out of here. It would be simple. But that would erase everything he'd worked for so far. And he didn't want to hurt anyone. He really, really didn't want to hurt anyone!

"Mado…?"

Kaneki's head shot up. He turned his head sharply toward the source of the voice. Amon walked very slowly toward them, his eyes on Kaneki's face. He stopped abruptly, his eyes widening, and he was likely very shocked to see Kaneki's kakugan.

"One eye…" Amon exhaled.

"Please… both of you, please, stay away from me…" Of course he could easily fight his way out. But he didn't want to. He was strong, certainly, but only in his head. He didn't know what this body could do, if he could push it like he had before. He didn't know if he could do anything worth anything. He was scared. He was so scared…

Kaneki heard Mado's brisk footfalls, his heels clipping the white tile, and when Kaneki looked up he saw the mad man dangling a small black phial in front of Kaneki's face.

"Mado, what are you doing?" Amon gasped, marching up to them. "Didn't you hear him?"

"I suppose I'm a little hard of hearing in my old age," Mado quipped. Kaneki stared at the smooth, lackluster black glass, and he wondered what was inside.

The fact that he was wondering anything made it clear that the situation wasn't as dire as he was making it out to be.

He was just scared.

Scared of what they might do to him.

To everyone he knew and cared about…

"Well, Ken?" Mado whistled low, waving the phial in Kaneki's face. "Take it or leave it, but let me tell you something. If you don't drink this, I will have to do something I maybe don't want to do to you, and it might not be the most pleasant thing. So why don't you just drink up?"

"What… is it…?" Kaneki reached for the phial with twitching fingers, one arm wrapped around his cramping stomach.

"Does that matter?" Mado's eyes were glittering. "It's for you. So these things won't happen." Kaneki continued to reach for the phial, his vision growing cloudy. "If I told you it was human blood, would it matter?"

Kaneki stopped. Uncertainly, he withdrew his hand.

Mado's eyes flashed wide momentarily.

"You should both get away from me," Kaneki said faintly. "Please… I really… really don't want to hurt you…"

Amon took Mado's arm, but Mado shrugged him off rather sharply. He knelt down, which caused Kaneki to drag his legs closer to his chest. He breathed in through his mouth, and hoped this would fade, this helplessness that reminded him of when he'd first become a ghoul.

That's because I just became a ghoul, he remembered suddenly. I literally just became a ghoul, of course this body isn't used to hunger pains. Even if, mentally, I'm totally an expert at dealing with constantly being on the brink of starvation, this body is still coping with the changes.

Wow. Being in his younger, squishier body was fucking tedious.

"Listen, Ken," Mado said, reaching out and snatching Kaneki by the wrist. Everything in him was instinctually reeling back. "I don't really know what's in this. I don't have the authority to ask, so whatever it is, you're not allowed to know. But I was told that if you showed any signs of hunger, I was to give you this." Mado dropped the phial into Kaneki's trembling hand. "Get up. You are my subordinate, and I won't have you having breakdowns every time your more unsavory traits reveal themselves."

He stood, patting Amon on the shoulder as he turned away. Kaneki gripped the phial tightly, unsure of what to do. Carefully, he uncorked the phial, and he sniffed it. It smelled strange. He couldn't put his finger on it, but it was a familiar smell. Without any other real, reasonable option, Kaneki took the phial in both hands and tipped it back.

He knew immediately what it was when the thick, acrid liquid hit his tongue. It sloshed in his mouth as he tossed the phial back and downed the whole thing in one gulp, disgusted but also satiated. The aftertaste was like tar clinging to the back of his throat, but as he took a few deep breaths, everything started to realign, and he felt his sweaty forehead, sighing in relief.

"Did… that work?" Amon looked surprised as his eyes darted between Kaneki and Mado.

Kaneki touched the skin beneath his eye. The veins had disappeared, which he was thankful for. He didn't know if his kakugan had vanished or not, but he was grateful regardless. He stood up shakily, clutching the phial in both hands.

"I… I think it did," he said, blinking rapidly. He took another deep breath. His eyes fell on Mado's back. "Mr. Mado… thank you, I…" He swallowed thickly, and when Mado turned his head to look over his shoulder, Kaneki lowered his upper body into a deep bow. "Thank you."

I just showed them how weak I can be, he thought frantically. I need to show them that I'm strong too.

"Fufu…" It was a chuckling sound mixed with quick puffs of exhaling air. He turned about, beaming at Kaneki with his usual awful expression. "Well, if you're thanking me, you might as well do me a favor. Amon and I are doing some ghoul investigating. You know, our jobs. You need to have at least a taste of what you're getting into before you get into the real nitty gritty things, so why don't you come along?"

"Mado," Amon gasped, his eyes darting to Kaneki's face. "Are you sure that's a good idea? He's completely untrained."

"So?" Mado shrugged. "The best way to learn is through experience. What do you say, Ken?"

Kaneki didn't know what to fucking say. The man hadn't given him time to even think, really. Kaneki was still reeling from the fading cramps that had captured his abdomen so abruptly, and now this guy just wanted him to go out and watch him hunt for ghouls? Honestly?

"Fine," he said, brushing the hair from his forehead to wipe the residual sweat away. "Fine, sure. Whatever."

"Good!" Mado clapped his hands together. Kaneki could only watch, exhausted and bemused, as he was led on a witch hunt of his own doing.

On their way, Kaneki found himself thinking back to when Mado had pulled him away from Amon. They were walking at a quick pace, the three of them, Mado and Amon making steady conversation while Kaneki checked his reflection in the gleaming glass windows of tall buildings to make sure his kakugan had properly concealed itself. He thumbed the sensitive skin beneath his eye, and he glanced at Mado's back.

"Excuse me," he said, quickening his pace so he was right beside the man. "But didn't you want to tell me something?"

"Hm?" Mado tilted his head. "Did I?"

"Yes," Kaneki said firmly, not meeting Amon's intense gaze. "You said that the… HQ, or something, had a, um… "interesting word" was the phrase you used."

"Oh!" Mado chuckled. "Yes, yes, that. Well, Amon and I were sent to the twentieth ward to do away with the Binge Eater ghoul."

"Binge Eater…" Kaneki repeated softly. People bustled past, and he recalled the sensation of intense hunger, mad hunger, even worse than the episode he'd had that afternoon. Meat, meat, meat, meat, meat, meat, meat. Humans? No. Meat. That was how it had been the first time around. This time it had to be different. He had to be good. He had to drink that concoction of the CCG's, and he had to put on a good human face so he wasn't butchered on the spot.

"Binge Eater is a particularly nasty ghoul that surfaced in this ward a few months ago," Amon explained hastily. "We were sent to track it and eliminate it."

"But that is no longer necessary!" Mado smiled brightly, as though beaming at the sunshine just for being bright. "The Binge Eater is now deceased. Thanks to you."

"Me?" Kaneki didn't need to ask. He knew the Binge Eater was Rize, but he didn't like the implications of Mado's word choice. He talked as if Kaneki had meant to go on a date with a highly dangerous ghoul.

"Kamishiro Rize was, by our assessment, the Binge Eater," Mado said. "Considering there have been no recent attacks since the night you were hospitalized, and given your own body type in comparison to the previous victims, we can conclude that the Binge Eater was killed in the same accident that prompted your… interesting predicament."

"Oh. Wow." Kaneki tried to sound more enthused, but his voice was simply flat and dull. "Yeah, you're welcome, I guess. I totally meant to almost get eaten." Kaneki glowered down at his feet. "It was all part of my master plan."

He expected to be rebuked or something of that nature, but instead Mado laughed and clapped Kaneki on the back.

"That's good," he said. "Not many people in this business keep their sense of humor. Of course you joking about being a ghoul probably won't win you any friends."

"I think it's worth a try," Amon said, glancing at Kaneki and smiling. "It would make him seem more approachable and human."

"Ah, that reminds me." Mado gripped Kaneki's shoulder tightly, his spindly fingers digging into the worn suit coat seam. "What happened today cannot happen again. You're excused for this one time, because of course I was teasing you by keeping your prescribed nourishment away, but it will not be so simple next time. When you are hungry, you immediately tell me so I can give you what you need. Is that clear?"

"Crystal," Kaneki murmured.

"It's merely a precaution," Mado informed them in his usual blithe tone. "Otherwise my orders are to terminate on sight."

Kaneki's eyes widened momentarily, but he managed a brief, "Okay." Before his throat closed up in terror. Because he was in really, really deep. He needed to remember that his choices had consequences. Last time… last time he hadn't really considered any of the consequences of his own actions. This time he had to think.

"That was a joke," Amon said firmly, shooting Mado a strange look. Mado merely smiled.

"What?" Kaneki asked flatly.

"Oh, come on, Amon, don't ruin the fun!"

"No, seriously," Amon sighed. "We have no permission to kill you. The order I was given was to apprehend you if necessary, but not to physically harm you."

"Is that for real?" Kaneki's eyes widened. Mado's face had fallen into a sullen expression, as though Amon's words did not please him in the least. He wants to kill me, Kaneki realized. Even if he's acting friendly, he'd like nothing more than to cut me down and rip me open. "I think I believe Mr. Mado more."

"It shouldn't matter to you who is right in this case, Ken," Mado murmured, a smile stretching tightly on his thin lips. "Your main goal is to never find out what happens if you go rogue."

"Noted." Kaneki paused as they walked past a large metal plaque bolted into a slab of granite. His insides seemed to freeze, and his mind whirred on rewind. Something in him was screaming all of a sudden, furious and terrified, and he wondered if it was that part of him that he'd almost forgotten. Centipede. It skittered and writhed. He heard it clicking its pincers in his ear.

Nobody had ever told him centipedes were venomous.

"Hey," he said in a low, dead voice. Amon turned to look back at him, but Mado merely continued his leisurely stroll, his briefcase bobbing at his side. "Hey!"

"You sound distressed, Ken." Mado did not turn around, nor did he even stop walking. Kaneki exhaled a shaky, vicious breath.

"Why are we at Kamii?" he asked in a voice that made him feel like this poor, squishy body had been plated with steel.

"We have business here." Mado never stopped. He didn't know how to fucking stop. That was why he'd died in the first place! He just kept going, going, going, and that was his downfall, his determination to see ghouls fall into abysmal misery. If he just… slowed down… took a moment to think, to see some clarity… if he'd just stopped…

You're going to die the same way this time around, Kaneki thought coldly at the man's back. Mark my words, Mado. You'll never be safe so long as you keep hunting ghouls for sport. Stealing kagune like hunters steel antlers.

Kaneki started forward. He began to quicken his pace to a brisk stride, his eyes sharp and cold as he glanced around the campus, studying the faces of his old peers, thinking that he would have been better off never going to the CCG. Everyone would have been better off. How could he be so foolish?

Make a choice and face the consequences. That was how this new world was.

Kaneki waited outside when Mado went into a building for a reason he did not deem necessary to disclose with the rest of the team. He was counting the students outside class, students lounging at lawn tables, students studying in clumps on the warm stone pathways, students sleeping in patches of shaded areas with textbooks smothered over their faces. Kaneki felt within his element with these people. Or maybe, the old part of him did.

Often times, back in the future, he'd thought himself a completely different person from the boy Rize had lured in. But that wasn't true at all.

He just wished he were different.

He wished and wished and wished that he could be the stronger one for once. That he could be the one to make a difference. To save instead of be saved.

It never worked.

Why did he ever bother pretending?

He was scared all the time, and no one seemed to hear him screaming.

Mado returned with his slimy smile right in place. It was worse now. Kaneki was beginning to notice that Mado had certain degrees of malicious smiles. Some of them were soft and teasing, almost… kind, if that were possible for such an atrocious man. Some were clearly cruel, but only to be mean in a curious, scientific way.

And then there were these smiles.

These wide, wormy little smirks. They were fucking predatory.

"Our suspect is a student?" Amon asked.

"Oh yes." Mado's fist was tight around the handle of his briefcase. "He's coming in a moment."

"You… called him?" Kaneki didn't understand how this investigating stuff actually worked. He'd just assumed the CCG got tips about suspected ghouls and attacked them in alleys or something.

"I made it clear that I needed to speak with him as a matter of importance so he'd be excused from class," Mado explained. "When you start doing this, you need to be quick with your words. Know how to get people into corners."

"That sounds sketchy," Kaneki told him curtly.

Mado beamed at him. "That's life!"

Kaneki wanted to throttle him. He thought about Hinami, her terrified face, round and wet and splotchy from tears. He could almost hear her uneven breaths as he twisted her away from the gruesome execution her mother had endured. Almost feel the warmth of her tiny hand as it clenched his bones until they threatened to snap.

His throat was closing up, and he turned away from Mado sharply.

The sounds of people murmuring, feet scraping against hot pavement, wind whistling through leave, it all filled him up and washed him out. He didn't need this right now. He didn't need to be sick on memories, sick on old times, old time blues, which made him ache in the head and in the heart, close-throated and jittery words about how time flies, time flies, time flies.

And then it rewinds and fucks you up even worse than you were before, which, frankly should not even be fucking possible.

He raised his head when he heard the door of the building open. He swallowed a furious, disorienting scream.

Nishio Nishiki closed a fist around the strap of his bag that hung loosely at his shoulder. He cocked his head at them.

"You the guy who called me down?" he asked in a bored tone.

"Nishio Nishiki," Mado said, smiling his awful, malicious smirk right at Nishiki's face, like that wouldn't tip him off that he was about to get his life ripped apart. He held up a badge with a goddamn dove on it. "I'm investigator Mado Kureo of the CCG."

"That ghoul thing?"

"That's the one."

"Okay…?" Nishiki's eyes flicked to Kaneki's face. They narrowed. In absolute fucking fury.

Great, Kaneki thought. He couldn't even breathe, he was so disgusted. He'd done this. He'd ruined his friend's life. Again!

"We won't bother you for long," Amon said politely. "We just need you to agree to an RC test."

Nishiki's jaw tightened. He looked away, ruffling the back of his sleek, wavy hair, and he sighed. "Sure," he said dully. "Whatever, I guess."

"Marvelous!" Mado's voice was piercing. Kaneki reached up and blocked his ears. He supposed it wasn't unusual for him to be screaming, screaming, screaming, and no one actually heard him. It was all in his head. The scream was ripping up his lungs because he was holding it down with everything he had.

Suddenly they were moving, and Kaneki struggled to catch up, lowering his hands from his ears and nearly crashing into Amon. Nishiki was leading them away from the halls with classrooms in it, toward the dorms. Kaneki watched Nishiki's back, and he bit his lip. He had to figure out a way to help Nishiki escape without tipping off Amon or Mado.

"What is an RC test, anyway?" Nishiki asked conversationally. They were outside the campus now. Kaneki's pocket vibrated, but he ignored it, his fingernails digging into his palm as he continued to brainstorm.

"Just a quick check to tell if a person is a ghoul or not," Amon told him. "It won't cost you anything, and once it's done we'll all feel a lot better about the situation."

"How does it work?" Nishiki was leading them down a sidewalk, his chin tipped up toward the sky.

"We'll extract some blood samples from you. It won't hurt, and it'll be over quickly." Amon didn't seem concerned that Nishiki was now leading them down a serpentine alleyway.

"You can tell that stuff from blood?"

"Modern technology is a wonderful asset to catching ghouls." Amon didn't smile. Kaneki stopped. Nishiki wasn't even trying.

He'd just done his best to lead them all away from t he school.

His pocket buzzed again. Kaneki thought to ignore it, but then it buzzed again, and of course it was Hide. So he pulled the phone out to check Hide's text messages as quickly as he could.

Bro just saw you and the other ccg guys?

People are talking it's not good at all they think nishio is a ghoul

Please be careful :o

Kaneki closed his eyes and pocketed the phone. It wasn't Kaneki that Hide needed to worry about. Nishiki was doomed if he didn't think of something fast.

"Nishiki," Mado called excitedly. "Your apartment is on a street opposite from here, isn't it?"

Nishiki froze.

God damn it, Kaneki thought, taking a step back and readying himself.

Nishiki's shoulders rose and fell.

"Fuck you, old man," he snarled, whirling around as his kagune unfurled, bright blue and glistening even in the wavering shadows of the old alley pass. His eyes were dark and flashing with the crimson light of his kakugan, veins pulsing beneath his skin and rising like red cracks beneath the frames of his glasses.

Mado merely laughed, jumping out of the way of Nishiki's attack and raising his briefcase. Nishiki bounced off the wall, moving at a swift angle and moving his legs so he could drop kick Mado in the face. The man merely lifted the briefcase, stumbling a bit at the force it took to deflect the attack. Kaneki watched with wide eyes as Nishiki's kagune came bearing down on Mado, a quick blur of a bluish arc swiping toward Mado's head.

And Mado grinned. He flicked his wrist, and the briefcase came snapping open, the click pinching inside Kaneki's ears like clicking pincers, and a long, jerky spine clapped against Nishiki's tail, sending a shockwave of noise through the alleyway. It was like listening to someone beating at a leather drum with the bulb-like end of a femur.

Nishiki fell back, skidding across the alley floor and knocking over a garbage can as he went. His teeth were bared, and his eyes were flashing around him. He wanted to figure a way out without actually confronting the investigators. His intention had probably been to jump them as soon as they were deep enough in the alley, which was a dead end, now that Kaneki had a good grasp on his surroundings. He could see a wall peeking around the next corner. He was gonna jump that wall and escape.

But Mado was too fucking smart.

And too fucking fast.

The quinque Mado had was something Kaneki recognized. He hated it. His stomach turned in disgust.

It was already too late to save Hinami's father. But… Hinami and her mother were likely okay. That was good. That was great to know.

Nishiki dodged the next strike that Mado prepared for him, sliding across the ground and rolling so his kagune whipped out, nearly tearing Amon's kneecaps off. The man jumped at the right time however, and he prepared his own briefcase, flicking it open and grasping his mighty, axe-like quinque.

"Kaneki, stay back!" Amon barked, his feet moving quickly, one two three, one two three, like a one man waltz. He knew how to read where a battle was going. He was steadfast, sturdy, stubborn. He could hold his ground against Nishiki easily while Mado cut him down.

This was really bad.

I need to get in on this fight, he thought wildly, watching Nishiki flip back, struck in the upper thigh by the clicking spinal quinque that twisted and whipped, too flexible and too sharp and too hard. It was a minor graze, but blood began to bubble up and redden his jeans. It hadn't even slowed him down. Nishiki kicked up a trash can and punted it at Mado, twisting his body away and diving at Amon while the man's head was turned, his eyes quick and worried for Mado's safety when they should have been front, watching the target.

The kagune was curled like a hook, and its point was dipping toward Amon's throat.

Kaneki pushed off the ground and jumped onto Amon's back, his arms dangling from the man's neck like a child pleading for a piggyback ride, and he crawled. His limbs weren't quite as nimble as they were once, but they were quick enough, and he'd swung his body, hooking one knee beneath Amon's arm as he shielded the man's face with his chest and let his kagune creep out, smashing into Nishiki's. The scaly little arms had thickened and hardened like a shell around Kaneki's back. He felt the overwhelming pressure, the biting sensation of someone else's tail pushing the points of the nerves inside his kagune.

He pushed off Amon, which caused the man to topple over onto the ground, and he whirled in midair, catching Nishiki's wild eyes. He was eying Kaneki's kagune with such pure awe and disgust, it seemed to roll off him in waves. It had dissolved all the terror in him.

"What the fuck is this?" Nishiki spat, gesturing to Kaneki with a sharp, revolted sneer.

Kaneki hunched defensively, sidestepping so he was properly between Nishiki and Amon. Frankly, Kaneki was fine with Nishiki killing Mado. He wished it would happen, honestly, it would save him a lot of grief in the long run. But Mado was simply better, so Kaneki doubted he'd get the pleasure of seeing that happen.

"Oh, fuck, this is just rich!" Nishiki raised his arms in mock appraisal. "The doves have a pet ghoul! That's fucking fantastic!"

"Nishiki," Kaneki said very carefully. The word senpai had to be swallowed down. He was sad. And he was scared. "Please stop fighting. If you don't fight back, they might let you live."

"Do you actually believe that crap?" Nishiki's face was twisted in his absolute and total fucking disgust. He was livid and repulsed, possibly just by Kaneki's existence. This was familiar. "Maybe that worked for little guard dogs like you for a minute, but they're gonna put you down before you can even think twice about regretting it!"

"I don't want to fight you," Kaneki said faintly.

"Then fucking die!" Nishiki lunged, and Kaneki was about to dodge, but he saw Mado's quinque reeling toward Nishiki. So he let his old friend tackle him to the ground, his kagune flashing. Kaneki listened to the quinque snap overhead, and he twisted to avoid getting pierced by Nishiki's bikaku. His own kagune slithered out from beneath him, and two limbs wrapped around Nishiki's arms like snakes coiling around their prey.

"Kaneki, that's enough!" Amon gasped. "Get away from him!"

"Master's calling, stupid pup," Nishiki taunted, stomping on Kaneki's stomach. It knocked the wind out of him, leaving no sounds or breaths or thoughts, only the instinct that had been instilled upon him by the whispery clicking of a centipede writhing inside his ear canal, pincers ripping through his ear drum and burrowing into his middle ear, twitching little limbs dancing upon the eusta tube as the beast tore into his inner ear.

Blood dripped onto Kaneki's face. He watched Nishiki's side bloom red beneath the claw of his third kagune arm. He hated himself dearly, but he couldn't contact that hatred really, not really, not really right now when this was all unfolding.

He let the warm blood pour like heavy raindrops upon his cheeks.

The wound was gaping.

Oh, Kaneki thought.

His eyes widened.

"That's it," he whispered to himself. He wrenched his kagune out of Nishiki's side as he gave a shivery gasp, gulping at air with pained desperation. Kaneki dragged himself and Nishiki upright, and he watched Nishiki's eyes flash dangerously. That's it, he thought, come on. That was nothing, Nishio. Nothing compared to what you can handle. So come on!

Kaneki threw them both against the wall to dodge a swipe from Mado's quinque. Nishiki yanked his arms free of Kaneki's kagune while Amon shouted, picking up his quinque and jerking a finger at Mado.

"Hold you're attack! You almost just hit Kaneki!"

"Does that matter?" Mado's voice rumbled. It was the distant threat of a storm, thunder sounding the increasing risk of danger. While Kaneki listened to the exchange, Nishiki backhanded him.

"Sounds like they don't care that much about what happens to you, dog," Nishiki spat, his kagune curling behind his shoulder.

"Oh, just shut up," Kaneki grumbled, grabbing Nishiki by the shoulder and kicking off the wall, his leg sailing over Nishiki's head.

"Mado, you can't disobey orders! Do not hurt Kaneki!"

"Do you see this?" Mado sounded irritated. "This is not a precious little child, Amon, regardless of how you may feel! Our job is to exterminate ghouls, and right now I see two ghouls ripe for the killing!"

Kaneki dodged a quick jab from the brightly hued kagune, blinking at the squirmy bikaku and kicking off it, spinning in midair to catch the shingles of a slanted roof. He flipped himself onto it, bending into a crouch and glowering at Nishiki. Come and get me, his haughty gaze goaded.

Nishiki loved to pick fights.

"Normally I trust your instincts implicitly, but now is not the time!" Amon caught Kaneki's eye. Kaneki watched him sadly. He didn't know how this would turn out.

Tell me how purgatory ends, he begged the man, as though he could hear Kaneki's thoughts somehow.

Nishiki jumped onto the roof, the veined blue kagune catching the sunlight and sending silvery, bioluminescent light shattering amongst the dusty shingles. Kaneki rolled out of its path as it tore shingle after shingle after shingle up and into the air, blood splashing from Nishiki's open side and staining his blue jeans black as he ducked and jutted his leg out. Kaneki crossed his arms into a block before his face, grunting as the blow hit him, and he balanced on the edge of the roof, batting off the kagune strikes with the clicking, pinching red arms that coiled around him.

"You risked your life to save that goddamn dove," Nishiki spat as his fist breezed past Kaneki's ear. "What the fuck is with you? Trash like you waste space and encroach on perfectly good territory."

"I'm really sorry, Nishiki," Kaneki sighed. He slid back, falling flat against the slope of the roof as the bluish blur sailed dangerously close to his nose. He kicked himself up again and grabbed Nishiki by the front of his shirt. He'd been calculating their steps. They'd inched their way to the end of the alley.

"Sorry?" Nishiki's eyes were huge, blackened sclera wet with what Kaneki assumed were despairing tears. "Yeah, okay, I'll give you sorry—!"

Kaneki watched his kagune come swiftly from the side, and he knew that Amon and Mado would be watching, so he jerked both himself and Nishiki in the opposite direction. Which luckily for Kaneki, was right off the roof.

They tumbled over the wall separating the alleys, spinning in midair, and Kaneki couldn't so much as cry out as his back collided with the ground, pain dicing up his spine and sending tears springing into his eyes. Nishiki was no better. He'd been pierced by one of the twisting little arms of Kaneki's kagune again, this time in the shoulder. He struggled to get himself in a position that even resembled upright. He was probably beginning to feel the slice in his thigh.

Kaneki sprung up, breathless and teary eyed, and he pinned Nishiki to the ground.

"You fucker…" Nishiki's breath rattled, and he glared into Kaneki's face, his glasses slightly askew. Kaneki stared at him.

"Okay," Kaneki whispered, warily slipping off Nishiki. "Okay, you need to listen to me very carefully."

Nishiki's eyes widened. Kaneki helped him sit upright, and he winced, hugging his stomach and shooting a fierce glower at Kaneki's face.

"I know you don't trust me," he murmured, shrugging off his suit coat and pressing it gingerly to Nishiki's shoulder wound. It would've been ruined either way, and Nishiki couldn't leave a blood trail. "That doesn't matter. What matters is that you get the fuck out of here."

"Are you kidding?" Nishiki's eyes darted across Kaneki's face. His kakugan made him look so terribly frightening, but Kaneki knew better.

Kaneki began to speak rapidly, leaning close to Nishiki so he wouldn't be overheard. He didn't know where Mado and Amon were, but he didn't hear them on the other side of the wall, so they could be anywhere.

"There's a coffee shop called Anteiku a few blocks from here. Take the back alleyways to the back entrance, and don't get spotted. If anything happens to that place, I'll kill you myself." He looked into Nishiki's eyes. And then he smiled sheepishly. "Tell Yoshimura I sent you. They should be able to hide you until you heal."

"Is this a joke?" Nishiki whispered, his brow furrowing. "You… you did this to me. You turned me in!"

"Shh!" Kaneki clamped his hand over Nishiki's mouth. He stared levelly into the man's eyes, and he exhaled sharply. "I didn't. I swear, I didn't, it was Mado, he… he has this weird instinct. He just knows." He shivered, looking down into his lap. "I'm sorry. I can't do anything more for you but buy you some time."

"Time?" Nishiki looked at him warily as Kaneki lifted his hand.

"I want you to stab me," Kaneki whispered, raising his eyes to meet Nishiki's gaze, "right in the gut."

"Are you crazy?"

"I'll heal," he whispered fiercely, "and I think I'm important to them, for the time being, so they won't let me die just yet. It'll give you time to escape."

Nishiki's mouth fell open. His kakugan dissipated, and he seemed to relax a little as he nodded. Slowly at first, and then furiously.

"Okay," he whispered. "Okay, but… shit. Why are you helping them?"

Kaneki had to hold back a laugh. He took Nishiki by the shoulders, and he smiled. "To help people like you," he said.

"You're crazy," Nishiki muttered. "A crazy, one-eyed fool. That's what you are."

"Guilty." Kaneki braced himself. "Okay, do it."

Nishiki glanced at him. He took a deep breath, and Kaneki saw the brilliant blue gleam of his kagune.

The breath was stolen from him. He couldn't think or breathe. All he knew was the pain, the familiar kiss of pain that trailed from his stomach to his ribs and up into his throat as he coughed blood into Nishiki's face. He collided with the warm pavement, unable to stop himself from curling up in agony. Nishiki'd really done a nice number on Kaneki, to the point where it was less of a stab and more of impalement. Kaneki felt his arms and legs go lax as he listened to the beating of his own heart match the beating of Nishiki's sneakers against the ground. It all melted into the clicking of pincers, the winding, writhing screeching of his own breathy screams.

He was half unconscious, sleeping off the wound, when he heard a heavy, frantic voice. His eyelids were heavy as he tried to part them, blinking into the bleary white afternoon and coughing. His mouth was filled with more blood than saliva, and he felt it dribbling down his chin as he moved his lips dazedly.

"Kaneki…" His name swam in the front of his brain, and he groaned. He just wanted to sleep. "Kaneki! Hang on, okay?"

It was a low voice. It confused him, hearing a low voice.

He began to realize, through his swimming vision, that he was being cradled.

"What…?" he rasped, his head lolling. He found himself behind scooped up into the air, and his eyes widened.

"You saved my life," Amon said, marching past the distinctly sullen Mado Kureo. "I won't ever forget that, Kaneki."

He squinted at the man's face. "Okay," he mumbled. "Thanks… for defending me. Thank you…" He let out a contented sigh. "Thank you…"

He fell asleep, and let himself dream. Of a happier past, and a family that did not quite know him yet. Of the days spent with Banjou and Hinami and Tsukiyama, constantly teetering on the edge of a severe mental break. And of a field of spider lilies that stretched out toward the sky, a thousand corpses littering the ground, and at the middle of it all was the partial remains of a smiling friend.

Hide's half rotted face turned to grin at him.

"Welcome back, Kaneki."

Chapter Text

The flowers were so vibrant and crimson and terrible, it was hard to look away from them, even though they reeked of decomposing tissue moldering away in sewer water. He thought if he breathed in through his mouth, it would all make sense, but that was too much for him to ask for. His mind did not clear at all. There was something rattling inside his skull.

"Hide…" The flowers were whispering. Choking on words. On blood. They whispered. He held his head, and he trekked forward, feeling his boots crush the spidery limbs of the vibrant crimson flowers, terrible as they were, beautiful as they were, terrible as they were. He felt overwhelmed.

Hide's rotted skin became porous. It stretched thin and gray over the contours of his skull.

"You look rough, dude," he said, gesturing his bloated fingers at the unstitched seam that had burst across the concave marble of Kaneki's belly. Blood was not so much pouring out as it was dribbling and quick rivulets down the slide of his abdomen, lines tracing from his navel down to his pelvis.

"I…" Kaneki fell to his knees, sinking into the warm, wet flowers and feeling bile wash upon his tongue. The smell was growing worse. "Why…? Hide. Why did you…?"

"We do what we have to," Hide whispered. The leathery skin of his decomposed face began to unravel into thin gray vines. Kaneki watched bulbs form upon the thorny stem, looping through Hide's matted blonde hair. "Don't be so glum."

Kaneki held his head. There was something squirming inside it, and he wanted to cut it off, cut off his whole head and let it loll in his trembling, discolored fingers.

"Somebody," he choked, "please… let me out of this hell…"

"What hell?" Hide's face was a patchwork of sickly skin and blooming flowers. He opened his mouth, and his laughter smelled like the rotten aroma the wafted from the spider lilies crushed beneath Kaneki's feet. "This is your life. This is the life you chose. Why? Kaneki, you knew. You knew how foolish it was to live. You knew that your life was just a faulty experiment! Why did you keep fighting?"

"I never wanted this!" he cried, staring into Hide's lone eye. It was cloudy. Gauzy with the sweet fog of death. Kaneki's reflection teetered in the swampy brown glass. His face was slim with malnourishment, his lips cracked and caked with blood, his eyes big and black and hollow, purple bruises sinking into his skull, and his hair was ratty and thin and white as snow.

"I guess not." Hide reached out, his skeleton fingers raking through Kaneki's hair. Kaneki's vision swam with fog. "But this was the lot you drew. You could've chosen to cast yourself off into the ether, but no, you did not, and why not? I don't get it. You hate living."

"Wrong," Kaneki mumbled.

"You hate this struggle, this battle of what if, why not, where is that razor, where is that belt, where did I put those pills, should I, shouldn't I, would it matter, would anyone ever care?" Hide's voice was bright and his foul breath hit Kaneki's face, blooming like the spider lilies crawling across his rotting face. "You live half your life stuck beneath a bell jar, and you'll spend the rest of it squirming beneath a knife. You glorified fucking worm."

"Wrong, wrong, wrong!" Kaneki couldn't even hear what Hide was saying beneath the uncomfortable shuffling inside his ear. He clawed at the skin of his earlobe, sticking his fingers into his ear canal and ripping the writhing centipede out with a pain filled gasp its many legs slicing into the tender skin and splashing blood down the side of his face. "Wrong… wrong… wrong…"

"Now, now, now," Hide laughed, laying a cold hand upon Kaneki's damp forehead. "Let's make amends. Repent, won't you?" Hide plucked the squirming centipede from Kaneki's fingers, holding it up before Kaneki's face. It thrashed and skittered, but it was no match for the death grip it was in. "Do it for me."

"I…" Kaneki's mouth was dry as he watched that awful, writhing monster click its pincers and turn and turn and turn.

"No, don't speak," Hide whispered. "Listen."

Kaneki listened.

The centipede made a revolting squishing noise as was cracked and clenched inside Hide's fist. Its legs twitched feebly, dancing madly as it tried to hang on to maybe a second, a millisecond more of life. It fell into the spider lilies, lying amongst the rest of the dead in its curled up, misshapen way.

"Was that wrong?" Hide asked.

Kaneki wavered. Was that wrong?

What was wrong?

"I don't know," he replied faintly.

"Tell me, then. Tell me what is wrong."

"I don't know!"

"Yes you do. Just say it. You know it. You do. Say it."

"I…" Kaneki stared up into his best friend's terrible, decomposed face, red flowers bursting from uneven, undone skin. Stitched along his cheek, popping out of his eye socket, crowning his forehead. The flowers were everywhere. "I am."

"Again."

"I am," he gasped.

"Again!"

"I am!" His teeth clenched, and suddenly Hide was gone, and his injuries had healed, and his mouth was watering from the sweet taste of blood that sloshed upon his tongue.

He found himself standing. A figure loomed before him, standing in the middle of the rotting flowerbed.

Death would cut him down.

"Arima… Kishou…" Kaneki's eyes were wide with terror. Death turned. Blood licked his cheek. It was not his own.

Did angels bleed?

Kaneki had never found out.

But he asked.

He asked anyway.

"Can you bleed?"

He took a step. The flowers did not part for him. The stench only worsened. And still he moved. He was in a stupor.

Death did not speak. How could he? He was death. Death could not have a voice, or else he would scream for all eternity. How wretched his job must be! Wretched like him. Beautiful like him. Everything was suddenly so very bitter in the face of something so singularly terrible and wonderful and horrifying.

"I wonder…" Kaneki tilted his head. "Do angels get struck down?"

Death held his sword. Resolute till the end, Kaneki supposed.

"If you were a ghoul," Kaneki said, his kagune twisting out of his back in corkscrews, "you'd probably demolish any competition and put the One Eyed Owl to shame."

Death lifted his sword.

"I know," Kaneki sighed. "I'm fine, calm down."

Death jumped.

"I can still fi—"

An explosion of pain loosened his brain and pushed him to expel a scream. His eye was gone gone gone and his body was stuck on a spike drilled through his skull and he couldn't think or think or think or think it was all too damn much and he didn't know or know or know, what…? What…?

The scream rattled and rocked and ripped him inside out, leaving him raw from the fluctuating pitch that clawed out his larynx.

IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD IT'S GOING THROUGH MY HEAD

"It's going through my head!" Kaneki screamed, "It's going through my head!"

Something seemed to lift from him, a sheet that had been thrown over his head, and that allowed him to bolt upright, heaving deep gulps of air.

"It's going…!" he choked, tears wet in his eyes. "It's… through my…!"

Suddenly there were hands on his shoulders. He stared vacantly ahead of him, his vision swimming. As the world adjusted, it graced him with nothing but white. It made him sick. He knew he wasn't in heaven. How could he be? How could he have ever deluded himself that he'd be worthy of heaven?

"Kaneki!" The grip on his shoulders tightened. Kaneki had to blink a few times, but he managed to glance toward the source of the voice. It was a man. He was kneeling, his eyes wild with fear and confusion.

"My…" Kaneki uttered faintly, "head…"

"You're fine," Koutarou Amon said, pushing him gently back against a pillow. Kaneki was trying to puzzle out where he was.

The ceiling was white like the walls and like the sheets and it was nothing like heaven so fuck that, Kaneki wasn't dead or deluded, so it had to be a hospital, right, right, right? Right. Hospital.

"Not again…" he mumbled, covering his face with his hands. He massaged his eyelids. Yep, both eyes were still there.

"Does this happen… often…?" Amon had decidedly leaned back away from Kaneki when he removed his hands.

"What?" Kaneki pondered it. "No. I don't need to go to hospitals much anymore."

"Ah, no." Amon shook his head. "That's not what I meant. I meant the… nightmares. Kaneki, you were having a fit."

"Mm." He rubbed his stomach absently. "What else is new?"

"It's very troubling!" Amon's fists clenched against the cot, his thick eyebrows furrowing. "You are clearly having a violent reaction to something you must have— seen or experienced or fear. Night terrors are not something you should take lightly!"

"It was just a nightmare, Amon," Kaneki said, rising himself onto his elbows and peering up at the man with large eyes. "Nightmares are easy. They end."

"Not always," Amon remarked softly.

Kaneki sat up with a groan, holding his stomach as he went. It ached for some reason.

"Um, Amon…?" He threw the man a sheepish smile. "What happened to me?"

"Do you not remember?" Amon blinked rapidly. "You fought a ghoul, Nishio Nishiki. He attacked and severely injured you. We brought you to immediate medical attention."

"Ah." Kaneki's shoulders loosened. Nishiki. He wondered how his friend was fairing. If he'd made it to Anteiku or not. He was scared. He didn't want to know, really, but part of him was struggling not to rip out that damn IV and run down to the coffee shop to check for himself. "So how long have I been here for?"

"Well… Probably about forty hours give or take—"

"What?" Kaneki gasped, jerking forward so fast he nearly ripped out his IV. "That's not—! I mean, I should've fully healed hours ago! Why am I still here? How did I even sleep for so long?"

"Calm down, calm down!" Amon waved his hands fervently, his eyes narrowing sternly. "This was merely a precaution. The CCG doesn't know your biology just yet, so we had no idea if the wound would heal normally. Additionally, you frighten us. It's difficult not to admit that, with the way Mado acted out the other day." Amon sighed. He was clearly still very upset with his partner over what had transpired, and Kaneki honestly found it rather touching. "So naturally you were given RC suppressants when you were brought here. Unfortunately, it slowed your healing process significantly and kept you in a very deep, trance-like sleep."

"RC suppressants…" Kaneki's hand flew to his eye before he could stop himself. Yamori had used such a thing on him once, twice, seven hundred, a thousand times backward.

"We use them on ghouls we don't intend on killing right away," Amon explained. Then, hastily, his eyes flashed away from Kaneki's face. He looked to be pausing to collect his thoughts. "That is not the case with you, I promise."

"Thanks." Kaneki dragged his fingers down his face, and he sighed. "For your sincerity, I guess…?" He shifted so he was sitting completely upright. "No offense, but… Amon, why are you here?"

Amon had settled into a chair leaning against the wall, his eyes cast out toward the window that spilled astonishingly bright light into the room, making the white walls and floors and sheets seem to radiate a soft glow. It was clearly mid-morning, probably eight or so.

"Truthfully," he said quietly, "I had no intention of staying here this long. But when I was leaving, I happened to see your friend, Nagachika, sleeping in the lobby."

"Hide is here?" Kaneki blurted, his mind reeling back to his dream, goosebumps springing along his arms. It was hard not to think about it, but he managed to push it out of his head.

Amon shook his head. Kaneki wondered how disappointed his face looked.

"The CCG were the only ones who could authorize who saw you," Amon said apologetically. "Even your doctors were CCG staff. Nagachika was not going to be permitted to visit you no matter how long he waited."

"So he's still waiting?" Kaneki found himself fumbling at the tape pressed to the crook of his elbow.

"Stop that!" Amon jerked out of his chair and reached over Kaneki, prying his hands away from the IV. "Nagachika isn't here. I woke him up and told him to go home. That it was useless to wait."

"But…" Kaneki felt so deflated. He watched Amon walk around the cot and thumbed a clamp on the tubing, inspecting it thoughtfully. He did not turn it, however.

"I told Nagachika I would stay with you until you woke up," Amon explained. He took Kaneki's arm, cautiously peeling the tape and something transparent back, away from the direction the needle seemed to be inserted. Kaneki stared at the man confusedly. Why was he doing this?

"You…" He watched Amon remove the intravenous catheter with enormous care, slow and sure as he inspected the end of the needle. "Amon, you can't have actually been here for forty hours."

"I didn't mind." Amon set the needle aside, snatching a small package of tissues from Kaneki's bedside table and ripping them open. He pressed one to the small bead of blood that had bubbled up where the needle had been removed. "Here, hold this."

Kaneki took over pressing the tissue to the excruciatingly small wound, finding this all to be rather pointless since it would just heal anyway. Amon had managed to find a box of band-aids though, and he sat down at the edge of Kaneki's bed.

"You didn't have to do that," Kaneki gasped, leaning forward with wild eyes. "Amon, I'm okay! I'm a ghoul, remember? I heal fast."

"I wasn't really worried about that." Amon shook his head, ripping the band-aid open. "I was assured very early on that you'd be fine."

"So why…?"

Amon removed the tissue and applied the band-aid nimbly, as if he'd been patching skinned knees and paper cuts all his life. He set Kaneki's arm down on the cot, and he looked at him. He offered a meager shrug.

"It's hard," he admitted, "waking up to an empty room."

He stood up and turned away. Kaneki held the bandaged elbow, staring after him and feeling somewhat small and feeble. Like this man had reduced him to a child. It's hard to be alone, Kaneki thought numbly, watching Amon move toward the door.

"I'll get you some water," he said without turning back. "You can still have water, right?"

"Y-yes…"

"Okay, great. I'll be right back."

Kaneki exhaled as the man left the room. He wasn't sure what had just happened. But Amon was right. It was hard waking up to an empty room. He must've known that Kaneki had no immediate family. No one but Hide. No one to care if he died. It was sad, and Amon knew it, or else he wouldn't have stayed.

But the way he'd said that… the way he'd looked, sounded, moved… it was as if Amon were speaking from experience.

This world is wrong.

Kaneki let himself lie back down and stare at the washed out white ceiling. Sunlight burnt his retinas, gleaming white specks floating on the edge of his vision. Amon had been so very right way back then, way in the future, way never to happen again.

The world was wrong, and hardly anyone wanted to fix that.

I do, he thought, squeezing his eyes shut. I do, I do.

Why was it so hard to do the right thing? What were the qualifications for a correct decision, and where could Kaneki find them? He was desperate. He wanted to do the right thing, the thing that would have positive effects on everyone involved, but he didn't think this world had anything positive to offer without dosing out negativity in response. It made him sick to think about.

Kaneki considered crawling out of bed and sneaking out of the hospital, but he didn't think it'd be fair to Amon. After all, almost two days of sitting by someone's side probably took a lot of dedication. The man's willpower was really admirable.

Amon did not return immediately, though. In fact, after about half an hour, Kaneki was half mad with worry. Getting a water didn't take this long. And Kaneki knew something was wrong, he just didn't want to act on that knowledge. Like maybe if he just avoided the facts it would all go away.

But Kaneki couldn't do that. Of course he couldn't do that.

He got out of bed, wobbling a little on his unused legs, and he took a deep breath. His stomach was cramping, but the pain was dull, probably ghosting the wound that had been there. He was confused, though. If his IV drip had been filled with RC suppressants, how had his stomach healed?

When he left the room, he felt as though he'd broken out of jail. He walked on the tips of his toes across the linoleum floor, the chill sending shivers up his spine. Morning sunshine spilled into the white hall through his room, long fingers of light crawling across the walls, and he focused his senses on the surrounding area, testing for footsteps, voices, or even just simply bodies that might be standing in Kaneki's way.

He followed the corridor to a turn, and then he stopped. He heard Amon's voice. He turned around, blinking into the eerie, empty white hall, and he felt that something was going to get him, coming to get him, that he'd made a mistake and he was going to pay for it with blood.

But nothing came.

Empty rooms and empty halls and the purity of white walls caused inexplicable psychological thrills.

I feel like I'm being hunted, he thought, his eyes roving around him, but there's no one here. I can't hear any heartbeats, or breathing, or sense anyone creeping up on me.

So it had to be all in his head.

Typical.

Just when Kaneki was convinced that he was in a deserted hospital, Amon appeared suddenly from around the corner. He didn't look surprised that Kaneki was out of bed, but he marched up to him and caught him by the bicep.

"I'm going to take you back to your apartment," he said without looking at Kaneki. His voice was hard.

"Did something just happen?" Kaneki wanted to shake his arm out of the man's grip, irritated that he was being dragged against his will, but he had a feeling Amon was right to do this.

"Not… really." Amon sighed. He looked really angry. "I signed all your papers, so you're free to go."

"Were you allowed to do that?" Kaneki asked incredulously.

Amon did not answer.

Kaneki began to realize what had happened.

Amon had stopped the RC suppressants. At some point during his ceaseless vigil, Amon had turned the roller clamp on the tubing so that the fluid would cease to run into Kaneki's veins. That allowed Kaneki to begin to actually heal, and once he'd healed sufficiently he'd jolted awake. And then Amon had taken him off the IV completely, without permission.

He'd effectively saved Kaneki from what could have been a medically induced coma.

Kaneki had to take a deep breath to keep himself from screaming.

He'd underestimated Amon. He'd truly had not understood how compassionate the man truly was.

Kaneki hugged his arms, glancing up at Amon's face as he stared forward, perfectly stoic.

"Hey, Amon," he said quietly, "thank you."

Amon glanced down at him in surprise. Kaneki met his gaze, his eyes wide and expressing his gratitude as best as they could. It made Amon smile. He clapped Kaneki on the top of the head, which made him yelp.

"Don't worry about it," he said, giving Kaneki a playful shove.

Sleep didn't come easy. And when it did, it came with a little thing they'd used to call CNS.

Chronic Nightmare Syndrome.

She sat in a bed of dead yellow grass, wearing a fluffy blue dress that ballooned around her knees. She was pouring coffee into a tray of teacups. She poured five cups.

"Is this enough?" she muttered to herself uncertainly. She counted. One, two, three, four, five. She spoke out loud. "One, two, three, four, five."

"Six."

A black rabbit had appeared at her side. He was small. Not really a rabbit at all. A black bunny! Yeah, a black bunny. He sat with a grumpy expression, his dark hair matted and dirty from burrowing holes in the earth. She wanted to make fun of him. Ha! Him! Rolling in the dirt! He hated getting dirty. But he also hated looking weak. Especially in front of her.

"No," she growled, "no, there're five. I counted."

"Six," the black bunny yawned, rolling his eyes. They mirrored her own. There was death and fury gleaming behind his bored expression. "You can't even count. Stupid sister."

"I counted, and there was five!" She was angry. Why was he even here? Stupid bunny! She could hear a watch around his neck ticking off the time they had left together, and it made her so fucking anxious. If he was gonna run, then he should fucking run! Leave her the hell alone!

She wouldn't follow.

She would never fucking follow.

"It's not my fault if you can't count."

"I can count, and you're wrong!" She gritted her teeth, her eyes flashing down to the tray of coffee. "See? One, two, three, four, five!" She pointed to each. One, two, three, four, five.

One was white. It was white and cold. Two was painted, crude little butterflies dancing around the rim. Three was black as coal. It was dusty. It hadn't been used in years. Four was cracked in half. It was made of stars, and black coffee pooled around the midnight shards. The fifth was shiny and new, made of black and white checkered tiles. They sat on her tray. She hated them all.

She loved them all.

"Six."

The bunny produced a green cup out from beneath his dusty black vest. Coffee sloshed around the brim.

"I never asked for a sixth," she hissed.

"You never asked for a fifth either." The bunny's ears twitched beneath his ratty hair. "You shouldn't even have the fourth. Why keep it around? It's broken to fuckin' pieces, and it was never any good to begin with."

"Shut up," she barked. She was tired of him bad mouthing something so precious to her. "Just go away! Go! I won't follow you this time."

"Good," he spat at her. He stood up, reaching into the steaming green cup, and as coffee overflowed from its porcelain rim, he withdrew a string. It dangled on the tip of his finger.

He tossed a crisp, dry white medical eyepatch at her feet, and he let the cup fall into the grass. She jerked forward, knocking over the dusty black cup as she caught the green teacup in her shaky fingers.

"Damn it," she gasped, cradling the cup in her lap. Something was wrong with it. She didn't know what. She was scared. She didn't know what to do! "You almost broke it, Ayato!"

"Can't break what's already broken," her brother sneered, plucking up his dusty teacup and thumbing a small crack that had appeared on its dull surface. She watched him. She felt a scream rising in her throat as his thumb applied pressure onto the crack. Stop, she thought dazedly. Please. Don't. Don't do this to me. Ayato. Ayato. Ayato…

She heard a spine-chilling crack and she watched in horror as he let the shattered remains of his teacup fall to the dead grass.

Touka woke up with a sharp intake of breath. Thorns were digging into her legs. A dream of a dream of a nightmare stuck to her heavy eyelids. She could feel her heart thundering in her chest. She listened. She held her breath to listen harder. Where was that rhythm? She'd memorized it. It was less of a rattle and more of a slow succession of puffing breaths. A soft rhythm. She knew it. She knew it by heart. But she could not hear it. So her heart thundered louder.

She bolted upright, panic flooding her as her eyelids peeled open and she glanced hastily around the dark, shadowy room.

"Ayato?" she gasped, pushing her hair out of one eye to get a better look at the lumpy bed across from hers.

It all came back to her in a flash.

Her stupid brother wasn't here.

He wasn't here.

She took a deep breath. Okay. Yeah. He wasn't here. Why did she even expect him to be here? It was laughable. Ayato had left so long ago, honestly, she sometimes forgot she even had a brother. Sometimes she felt like an only child.

But then she came back to her room and she saw the empty bed.

Ayato had made running away look so easy.

She flicked on her light and slapped her face gently.

"Wake up," she grumbled. She threw her legs over the side of her bed, pushing her blanket back and stretching her arms. "Stupid…"

When she checked her phone for the time, she realized it was nearly dawn. Well, she thought grimly, might as well stay awake. She walked over to the other bed and plucked a long sweater from the pile of clothes heaped onto it. She shrugged it on and left her room, treading carefully through the kitchenette and out her door. Migrating downstairs to make herself a proper cup of coffee wouldn't hurt anyone.

It relaxed her to prepare the coffee and make herself a cup. She was able to push her dream out of her mind. Soon she forgot what had even happened. She only knew that it had been about Ayato. That was all she really needed to know. She wanted nothing to do with it.

The coffee was good. It was bitter and strong. Just was she needed to get through a long ass day.

As she moved up the stairs, she heard voices murmuring somewhere down the hall. Now, that was something. Was the manager up already? Was something happening? Why hadn't she been woken up sooner, then? She lived here, she could participate in emergency Anteiku meetings. Jeez.

She held her coffee cup with both hands as she padded down the hall, shouldering open a cracked door. She leaned in the doorway as all conversations ceased, and Yoshimura, Irimi, and Koma all turned to look at her.

"Touka," Koma choked. He covered his surprise with a sharp laugh. "Oh man, Touka, what are you doing up so early?"

"Right back at you," she said, taking a sip from her cup. Irimi smirked, and she turned her face forward. Yoshimura was eying her with something like amusement, but she could never really tell. He might have been covering confusion. He too moved his eyes, and when Touka followed them, she realized what all the fuss was about.

"What the fuck is this?" she asked sharply.

"Now, Touka," Yoshimura scolded her gently. "Don't be rude."

There was a guy lying on his back, his side and shoulder stained deep crimson from blood. He'd cracked one eye open to glance at her. She realized she knew his face, and she sneered.

"You're the scumbag trying to snag Rize's territory," she recalled, watching him from behind the screen of steam rising from her cup.

"You keeping tabs on me or something…?" The man didn't sit up, but he did scowl at her. She didn't like him. Not one bit. "Sorry, doll face, but I'm spoken for."

"Tch." She scoffed into her coffee. "Disgusting."

"He doesn't sound like someone on his deathbed," Irimi remarked suddenly, turning to Yoshimura. "Maybe he doesn't need us after all?"

"Hey, it was a joke," the man hissed, wincing a bit as he sat up. "I'm sorry… I…" He fell back onto the couch and groaned.

"The damage done isn't by any means critical, Nishiki," Yoshimura said. "However, you will need a lot of rest and nutrition to get back to your full strength again. Until that time, you are more than welcome to stay here."

Touka's eyebrows shot up, but she didn't say anything. She knew better than to harp at Yoshimura about his charity. But honestly! This guy? He was literally just scum scraped off a shoe! He was gonna act like such a needy patient too, calling for water or meat, or something. Ugh. Was the day over yet? Touka took a great gulp of her coffee to keep herself from lashing out.

"Ah… thanks, old man." Nishiki sighed, and he gave a quick nod. "I'll get out of your hair soon. Promise."

"Take your time," Yoshimura told him genially. "There is a spare bed in Touka's room. As long as it's alright with her, of course."

Her blood was boiling. She had to keep it cool, though. Real cool. Subtle cool. Fucking cool.

"No," she said flatly, turning away.

"Aww, why not, Touka?" Koma teased. "Scared of a boy sleeping in your room?" He ended up grunting sharply in pain. Touka knew Irimi had probably clocked him, or elbowed him, or kicked him, or something satisfying like that. Served him right, honestly. Like a third rate ghoul like this Nishiki fucker could scare her.

"That bed is currently inhabited by a pile of clothes," she said, turning her head back to glare into the room. "I'd have to move it if he sleeps there."

"Touka," Yoshimura sighed.

"I'm being serious."

"I want you to tell me if this set up will make you uncomfortable," he said, standing up. "I can always set up a guest room."

She didn't want to admit defeat. If she did, if she admitted that she wasn't comfortable with some strange guy sleeping across from her for a few nights, Koma wouldn't let her hear the end of it. The things she did for her fucking street cred.

"No," she sighed, gripping her coffee cup tightly in both hands to keep from making a fist. "It's fine. But he stays on the other side of the room. And he gets dressed in the bathroom. It's bad enough I have to see his face, I can't imagine how ugly the rest of him is."

"Hey…" Nishiki growled, cracking one eye open.

"Fair enough." Yoshimura nodded to Koma and Irimi. "Why don't you two take him up to Touka's room? I'd like to fill her in on what she missed."

"You got it, boss," Koma murmured, rubbing his side. Irimi must have dealt a pretty nice blow. Touka moved aside, glowering at Nishiki as he hobbled past.

"Sit, Touka." The manager gestured to the seat Irimi had occupied. Touka's shoulders loosened, and she sighed, inching forward into the room and taking a seat. Yoshimura sat across from her. "I'm surprised you're up this early. You don't have a morning shift."

"No." She thumbed the rim of her cup. Something jolted in her head, something about a teacup, a thumb, crushing. Sadness. Ayato.

"A nightmare."

What a blunt statement. He made assumptions. He was right. How she hated that!

"I don't know," she mumbled, resting her cup against her knee. It was warm. A welcome warmth. "Maybe. Maybe not."

"You don't have to tell me." Yoshimura leaned back. "I'm just concerned. You've been doing so well with nightmares lately."

I just stopped talking about them, she thought glumly. They never actually went away. But she didn't say that. Who said stuff like that? So she merely hummed in agreement and sipped her coffee.

"I know this situation isn't ideal," he said, "but he has nowhere else to go. The CCG is hunting him."

"And he came here?" Touka choked, leaning forward sharply. "Sir! He could have led the doves right to us!"

"Unlikely," he said. His eyes were closed serenely. "Nishiki waited several hours before approaching Anteiku. He made certain he wasn't followed."

"That crazy bastard!" Touka huffed, and she looked away from the manager. "How'd he even know about us? Honestly, it's not like we advertise!"

"Ah." Yoshimura's eyes opened, and he cracked a vague smile. "That is the fascinating thing."

"Uh oh." Touka puffed out her cheeks and slid down into her seat. "Fascinating, huh? Sounds like trouble."

"More like an opportunity." Yoshimura shook his head. He seemed almost disbelieving. "Do you remember Kaneki Ken?"

"No," she answered reflexively. Of course after she thought about it, the name struck her. Yes, she remembered that dead boy walking. Rize had taken an interest in him. She'd already said her prayers for him, thinking about the lost potential of the life he'd never live, when he'd showed up at her back door and called her out on some shit. Man, that had pissed her off. Who the fuck did he think he was? Who gave him the right?

"He was here a few weeks ago," he reminded her, "asking for help. You were trying to turn him away, because he used to be human. Is that jogging anything?"

"Yes." She frowned. Okay, so that Kaneki kid was involved somehow. That… made things kind of weird. How was that kid even surviving on his own without any real experience in the ghoul world?

"Well Kaneki Ken decided to join the doves."

Touka looked at Yoshimura sharply. No way. What?

"Is he dense?" she gasped, tossing her coffee cup onto the table so she could jerk to her feet. "That— that idiot! He went to the doves? He's going to end up a heap of scraps on a lab table! And we can't bail him out, it's not even possible! Did he think at all? What the hell!"

"Are you quite done?"

"No!" She groaned slapping her forehead beneath her bangs. "This is just the thing I needed. I didn't expect to actually feel guilty about being mean to that stupid guy! And his friend comes in here all the time, I'll have to look at him and smile and pretend like nothing happened. It was easy when it was Rize! Rize wasn't my responsibility. But doves? Doves are the worst! I could have— I should have warned him about doves!"

"Touka," Yoshimura said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "It appears that the Kaneki has effectively infiltrated the CCG."

"Excuse me?" Touka wasn't really understanding. How did you infiltrate the CCG? Doves were doves, ghouls were ghouls. They existed as polar opposites, enemies meant to clash, meant to crash. They could not coexist. Nature repelled such a notion. And so they hunted each other.

"They let him live," he said with a mild shrug. "I couldn't say for certain why, but I'd assume they took his humanity into account. The doves love their projects, after all."

"That's insane," she muttered, falling back into her seat. "So he's… what, working for them now? That's totally insane, no way any ghoul in their right mind—!"

"Touka, Kaneki was quite human until very recently." Yoshimura shook his head. "Regardless, he feels a strong inclination toward his ghoul side. I think he cares very much about the value of an innocent life, be it human or ghoul. That is why he let Nishiki go."

"He…?" Touka wanted to lie down in her bed again until she woke up. The nightmare— the bunny and the cups and the eyepatch and Ayato— it made more sense than this. This felt more like a dream than anything else. "No way. There's no way he's on our side!"

"Nishiki mentioned that there were two doves with Kaneki when they fought." Yoshimura extended one finger. "The first was a man that Kaneki went out of his way to protect. He was equally as defensive of Kaneki. The second was clearly very hostile to both Nishiki and Kaneki, and openly admitted that he wanted both of them to die."

That felt more like an explanation than the actual explanation. She felt at peace with the idea that at least someone in the CCG was rejecting the idea. Just so, though, she felt an indescribable rage. They weren't just rejecting Kaneki, but ghouls as a whole! This was unfair. Kaneki was being treated unfairly because he was a ghoul, and it made her so angry!

"I don't get it." She stood up. "Thank you, sir, for telling me, but I have no idea what is wrong with that guy. It seems to me like he has a death wish."

"Mm…" Yoshimura picked up her cup and offered it up to her. "I actually think it's quite different. I believe he truly wants to change the world."

She took her coffee slowly. And then she scoffed.

"Yeah right," she murmured.

Kaneki was allowed to rest for a few days, which was a lot and nothing at all. He didn't like being cooped up, but staying away from the CCG was nice. Kaneki had some time to catch up on some reading. But the ugly thing about being alone was that Kaneki had too much time to think. He had to think. And there were things he really did not want to think about.

Hide came by after Kaneki was released. He didn't make any excuses about not being there. He didn't really bring up the hospitalization at all. He avoided it, and Kaneki didn't know why, but he was grateful. Hide didn't make a fuss over Kaneki's health. He was just there.

And that was all Kaneki really needed from him. To just be there.

Amon had called him earlier to tell him he'd be dropping by. It was likely he wanted to check Kaneki's condition, to see if he was fit to go back to work. That meant that Kaneki's time was up, and he wasn't sure if he was happy or not. It was hard to be happy when he still could not tell if the choice he'd made was the right one.

Would he ever be able to know for sure?

Well, Hide came and went quickly, off to a lecture for a class on government. Apparently it was a total bore. He slept through it most of the time. But Kaneki couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy, because as much as he distanced himself from that campus, as much as he hated to admit it, he wanted to learn. He loved school. He loved reading and learning new things. Being a ghoul stripped him of that liberty. Being a ghoul investigator catapulted him into the horrors of adulthood. He had to skip the learning bit.

There was a firm knock at his door, so he stood up from the floor, marking his page and tossing his book aside. This was one of Takatsuki Sen's works. He was rereading it for kicks, hoping to find some solace from the familiar pages, the cryptic prose, the startling metaphors for loneliness and isolation and self-idolatry coupled with self-neglect. He loved it. He could never get enough. It reminded him that he was alive.

He opened the door expecting to look up at Amon's face. That was a mistake. It allowed for a small, skinny forearm to slip beneath his chin and nearly crush his larynx.

"Make a sound and I'll kill you," Kirishima Touka warned, her eyes flashing beneath the smooth part of her bangs. She pushed him into his living room, forcing him to step back, step back, step back again in a rapid backpedal. She kicked his door shut.

She was wearing her school uniform. That was probably bad. Truly a dumb move on her part, honestly. When she'd gone to the CCG for info that one time, she'd made an attempt to disguise herself and Kaneki, never betraying her actual school. If he had to guess, by the strap of her backpack against her hooded sweater, she'd come here on a total whim.

He held up his arms in plain surrender. Her one visible eye narrowed. He didn't think she was as angry as she was trying to seem. Yes, she was clearly intimidating, but he didn't feel intimidated by her. Would she hurt him? Maybe. It was possible. Actually, she definitely would if she felt it was necessary. He didn't think she'd get any pleasure out of it though.

She backed him up right into a wall. His head knocked against it, his chin lowering to provide some space between her arm and his throat. He took a deep breath.

"Why the fuck did you go to the doves?" she growled, glowering into his face. She loosened her hold on him just enough so he could speak.

"Sorry…" He stared into her eyes until she was forced to really look at him. He didn't have anything more to say.

"Sorry?" She was even more furious now. Damn, he thought. So much for sincerity. "I don't care how sorry you are! Answer my question!"

"Please don't yell," he murmured, averting his eyes. "I'll cooperate."

"You don't seem very cooperative."

"I don't want to fight you." He let his eyes flash to hers, and he tried to pull all his emotion, all his genuine resolve into his eyes so she could see. So she could know. He wouldn't fight her even if she started beating him to a pulp. Even if she threatened to kill him. Even if she did kill him. He wouldn't do it.

He was banking a lot on Touka's empathy.

Luckily for him, she wasn't quite as tough as she let on. She cracked. She cautiously removed her arm, and he relaxed, rubbing his neck and giving a little cough. It wasn't for show. She'd really hurt him.

"Explain yourself," she snapped.

He glanced up at her. He shrugged feebly. "I just thought it was the best option at the time," he said blankly. "I don't really know why I did it. I didn't think. It was just a split second decision, something I've been regretting since the moment I made it."

"That's because you're an idiot!" Touka's hands flew to her side, balled into tight fists. He could almost feel her fists raining down on him. "You didn't think? Are you stupid? Honestly! The doves don't care if you were human once! They're going to tear you apart, Kaneki!"

She sounded like she cared. It warmed his heart, really. Truly, it did.

"Maybe they will," he admitted. "I knew there was going to be a risk, okay? Obviously it was reckless, but it was my life I put on the line, and I'd rather it stay that way." He watched her as she glared at him. "Is Nishiki okay?"

She scoffed. It was a sharp tsking noise, a brief intake of breath that coiled up her entire body. "Why do you care?" she sneered. "You damn dove."

"Listen, I know you know I let him go," he sighed. "Otherwise you wouldn't have come. How did you know my address, anyway?"

"Your friend is a blabbermouth," Touka muttered.

Kaneki's jaw tightened. And then he groaned, smacking his forehead irritably. "Hide…" he hissed.

"Yeah, him." Touka stuffed her hands into her pockets and scowled at him. "What's with him? Why is he so… excited? All the fucking time?"

"That's just his personality," Kaneki laughed weakly. "He's like that with everyone."

"It's weird." She sniffed, and she looked around his apartment. "So. Why?"

"I told you why."

"Ugh." She rolled her eyes violently. "Wow, okay. Why did you spare Nishiki? He's pretty much scum."

"You think so?" Kaneki was surprised. Though he shouldn't have been. To Touka, pretty much anyone even remotely unfavorable was scum. "I didn't get that vibe."

"He would've killed your friend, Hide, without a second thought," she said in a bored, dull voice. "You should learn to weed out the nasty folk if you're hunting ghouls for the doves."

"Is that advice?" Kaneki looked at her, and watched her face transform in slight horror.

"It's a warning!" she snapped, kicking him back against the wall. "You think you'll be able to just free the next ghoul you catch? Bullshit! The doves will catch on, and you'll be just another trophy on their wall!"

"I only intend to free the ghouls I think are innocent." Kaneki winced as her heal dug into his chest. "Can you please stop? Holy crap!"

"You're so weak." She released him, whirling away and stomping toward his kitchenette. "It's pathetic! How did you convince the doves to let you live?"

"I just answered their questions honestly."

"Bull."

"But it's the truth."

"You're made of bullshit, Kaneki Ken." She half turned toward him, her one eye flashing dangerously.

"That's probably true." He didn't want to lie to her. He was so happy to see her, to speak to her, to be around her for just a little while, it didn't seem to matter to him anymore how she thought of him as long as she was there. That was the trouble with becoming attached to people. Their feelings never mattered.

"Why did you let Nishiki go?" Touka asked it calmly this time.

Kaneki sighed. "It was my fault he got caught," he said softly. "I accidentally led an investigator with alarming instincts to Nishiki. I felt responsible, and I couldn't bear it if he died because of my stupidity."

She looked at him with widening eyes. Her mouth opened, but not a sound left them. She seemed totally at a loss.

Kaneki was suddenly aware of footsteps coming toward his door. By the way Touka coiled up, she sensed someone else there too.

"Hide!" he gasped, a cold sweat breaking out across his forehead as he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward his bedroom door. "Don't say or do anything. I'll try to get him to go away."

She stared at him, anger and fear and disgust toiling inside her gaze. He yanked her hood up and pushed her into his room.

"Not a word," he hissed.

She mouthed at him, "Fuck you." Then she flipped him off. He closed the door as quietly as he could as a knock sounded from the front door.

He took a deep, shaky breath. Touka was the last person he wanted to get involved with this bullshit. He couldn't even be surprised, really, because it was Touka. She was always so angry and ready for confrontation. If she was even remotely bitter about something, she made it known. She wasn't especially open about her feelings, but she sure as hell didn't bottle her issues up.

Amon stood in the doorway, his eyes flicking above Kaneki's head. He looked puzzled.

"Hey." Kaneki didn't need to put much effort in hiding his distress. He'd gone months and months wearing emptiness like an oversized sweater.

"Were you talking to someone?" Amon asked with a frown.

"Huh?" Kaneki tilted his head. "No. Are you hearing voices, Amon?" Kaneki managed a weak laugh. "That's pretty weird."

"Yeah." Amon glanced away. He seemed to be deep in thought. Kaneki watched him vacantly. "Anyway, how are you feeling?"

"Fine." Kaneki wrapped his arms around his stomach. The wound Nishiki's kagune had given him was completely gone. Kaneki had inspected his stomach, and the more time that passed, the more his ribs protruded and the more emaciated he became. He was continuing daily exercises to keep in shape. Or at least get into shape. He was pretty weak right now, and he'd never be able to protect anyone at this rate.

"You look better." Amon cupped his chin as he peered down at Kaneki. "You remember what Mado said, right?"

Kaneki's jaw tightened. He nodded firmly.

"Don't forget," Amon warned, his eyes hard with a blunt warning. "I won't be able to protect you if you lose control."

"I wouldn't want you to." Kaneki looked down at his feet. "I'm sorry."

"Why?" Amon seemed surprised. He sounded a little confused.

"You guys are responsible for me. For whatever actions I take." Kaneki watched him, watched his expression as it melted sympathetically. "I know you got in trouble for letting me off the RC suppressants."

Amon sighed. He rubbed the back of his neck, averting his eyes sharply. "Honestly…" He grimaced. "I was told that keeping you under was for everyone's safety. That once it was deemed that you were no longer a threat, they'd pull you up. But I sat in that room for two days, and you were only checked twice by a CCG approved doctor. They never gave me any real information about your condition, but I knew what was wrong with you."

"You made a really interesting call." Kaneki's eyes widened. "They probably would have kept me asleep for as long as they possibly could."

"I wouldn't say that…" Amon sounded pretty uncertain. But he likely felt the need to defend the CCG regardless. "It was definitely a little weird, though. I didn't think it was fair to you to keep you unconscious. You're not a bad person."

"Are you really sure about that?"

Amon looked down at him sharply. Kaneki was rattled by his own words. Why had he said that? He didn't want Amon to suspect him of anything! But it had been a real question. He was genuinely curious.

"Do you think you're a bad person?" Amon asked him cautiously.

"I don't know." Kaneki answered earnestly. He closed his eyes, and he could hear shuffling in his room. He didn't think Amon's ears were sharp enough to pick it up, though.

"Well," Amon said, "it's not like it's an easy question to answer. In reality, no one is a picturesque model of virtue. Don't worry about it. I think you're fine."

"You're kinda…" Kaneki cocked his head at him.

Amon stared blankly. "What?" he asked defensively.

"Oh." Kaneki blinked. "Sorry, it's just… you're super genuine. It's weird."

"I…" Amon's forehead wrinkled beneath his fringe of hair. "I can't tell if that's a compliment or not."

"Oh. Sorry—"

"You like to apologize." Amon shook his head in disbelief. "It's not necessary. I don't need your apology, Kaneki. I'm not offended, or anything."

"Oh. Okay…"

"You're probably ready to come back to work," he observed. "I can tell Mado to give you an extra day or two just to be certain, though."

Kaneki had to smile. "That's probably unnecessary," he said. "But thank you. You've been really kind to me."

"From what I've observed, you aren't exactly getting much acceptance from humans." Amon shook his head, looking a little irritated. "I can't imagine how ghouls would react to you. You're different. People hate people that are different."

Kaneki's smile turned grim. "That would explain how ghouls are treated," he said with a bite to his tone.

Amon watched him. His expression was emptied of all reaction, all emotion, and Kaneki sensed he'd made a misstep.

"You should be careful what you say," Amon warned, turning toward the door. "Especially around Mado."

You can't stop me, Kaneki wanted to say. You can't make me stop feeling what I feel!

But he didn't shout. He didn't even breathe. He just watched the tall man leave, vanishing from his living room and leaving him emptied of all devotion. He felt that creeping voice spreading out throughout his chest. He wanted to fill it. He wanted to fill his lungs with air, to see the sun again.

When Amon was gone, Kaneki crept back to his room. When he opened the door, he wasn't surprised to find the room was empty. His window was half open. He glanced around, trying to decide if she'd touched anything. Then he noticed there was a gap in his bookcase. He walked over to it, thumbing the empty space. She'd stolen a book from him.

It had been an old, decaying copy of Alice in Wonderland.

Chapter Text

He couldn’t help but feel aggravated when Hide laughed his ass off at him the next day.

“She actually came here?” he gasped, his arms wrapped around his belly to fend off cramps, mischief gleaming in his eyes. He had on a wicked grin, the kind that made Kaneki reconsider all the time they’d spent together and want to punch him right in the mouth. He didn’t, of course. He had a considerable amount of self-restraint now, since his mind was clearer and his body was weaker.

“Yes, she came here,” Kaneki hissed, glaring fiercely at Hide. “Amon nearly saw her! Hide, if he’d caught her—!”

“What?” Hide relaxed immediately, his eyes drooping and his expression growing innocent. “If he’d caught her here, you could have lied out of it easily.”

“Are you kidding?”

Hide shot him a curious glance. He shook his head in disbelief, and he flopped down onto the couch, kicking his feet up on the table. Kaneki was too frustrated to even yell at him.

“You could have said she was a friend of mine,” Hide said breezily, ticking off numbers on his fingers and raising them up so Kaneki could see his own incompetence. “You could have said she was related to your cousin or uncle, close enough that he’d accept it but distant enough not to rouse suspicion. You could have said she was a stranger you were fooling around with, which is something he’d readily accept and not ask questions about, considering his reaction to Kimi and Nishio.” He had three fingers offered up in the air. He glanced at Kaneki and smiled brightly. “That’s three easy lies you could have used. If Touka were really in that much trouble, you would have found a way to get her out of here without suspicion.”

Kaneki exhaled sharply. He didn’t even know how to respond to that. It felt like Hide had already thought of everything, like he’d had this planned out from the moment he’d told Touka where to find Kaneki.

“I didn’t think of any of that,” he muttered, feeling furious and utterly useless. “Hide, she could have been in serious trouble.”

“But she’s not.” Hide clenched his three fingers into a fist and smiled brightly. “She’s fine. Amon doesn’t know anything about her, and it’ll stay that way.”

“You can’t be sure of that,” Kaneki murmured. He was so distraught already by how much he’d fucked up. Nishiki had nearly died because he’d been stupid, he’d been foolish and messy and his friends were going to pay the price. This was how he’d lost Anteiku in the first place!

“No,” Hide admitted. He sounded very thoughtful. “You’re right, there’s always a possibility that Touka will be hunted. But if she is, that burden won’t be on you.”

“What do you mean?” Kaneki could not understand what Hide was thinking. It was becoming increasingly clear that no matter how much he thought he knew about Hide, he was always keeping something important hidden beneath the surface. He didn’t outwardly lie, but he committed the sin of omission like a demon laying traps before making a pact.

“You’re doing the best you can,” Hide said firmly. “I don’t know Touka very well, but I can tell she’s a very strong person. She’s not very much like you or me.” He leaned his head back against the couch to look up at the ceiling. It seemed like he was contemplating something. Kaneki didn’t understand. “I mean that, like, she obviously really loves confrontation. Otherwise she wouldn’t have gone to your apartment immediately after I told her where to find you. So she’s probably someone who acts before she thinks, and makes decisions not out of logic, but out of passion.” Hide was biting the skin of his cuticles, his eyes half lidded and dazed as he stared up at the ceiling. “Not to say she isn’t smart. She probably is. But people like Touka tend to make trouble for themselves because they are too strong willed to back down.”

“That…” Kaneki didn’t know what to say. Hide had no idea who Touka was. He couldn’t know her like Kaneki knew her. And yet, he’d made an incredible analysis of her personality based on one sole fact. Touka had taken the bait when he’d told her Kaneki’s address. That was all Hide had needed to make these assumptions on her character.

And that was fucking scary.

Hide seemed to jolt, his body jerking forward and his eyes flashing to Kaneki’s. It seemed as though he’d been forced to wake up from some feverish dream, like he’d tapped into some evil presence nestled deep within him, and by the stunned look on his face, he did not do this often.

“Sorry, buddy,” Hide laughed easily, scratching his temple. “I got carried away, I think. Touka’s a really nice girl, and I don’t want anything to happen to her. I’m just saying that she might end up bringing shit upon herself, and if that happens it’s not your fault.”

Kaneki bit his tongue. It’s not your fault. How could that be true? He felt like everything was his fault. That was why he’d joined the CCG to begin with. To rectify his mistakes. But Hide was telling him that it wasn’t his fault, it wasn’t his fault, and that was so fucked up. What wasn’t his fault? Touka acted without his influence, sure, but if anything happened to her, Kaneki knew he’d blame himself.

“If I can protect Touka,” he said, his voice dead, “then I will. It’s that simple.”

Hide watched him with dull surprise. His expression immediately softened. He nodded.

“Sounds pretty simple,” he agreed. “But she might not want your help, y’know?”

“Touka can deal with other ghouls,” Kaneki said, listening to his own coarse, vacant tone as it slipped from his lips like barbed wire. “All I need to do is keep her away from the CCG.”

“Well,” Hide said with a bright grin, “then I guess you have a lot less to worry about!”

Kaneki nodded. He wasn’t particularly nervous, but that might’ve been because he’d made a point to turn his emotions off. He needed to think. But now that he was thinking, he didn’t feel so great about acting like this with Hide. Hide didn’t know what a monster Kaneki really could be. It wasn’t fair of Kaneki to continue to use this tactic, this emotional kill switch that allowed him to speak calmly about all the awful things that plagued him.

He let himself relax. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, and he glanced down at Hide. “You’re taking this pretty well,” he said. “Aren’t you wondering why I’m so determined to protect a girl I barely know?”

Kaneki hadn’t wanted to bring that up, but it was bothering him that Hide hadn’t. So he decided to beat him to the punch.

“Huh?” Hide twisted on the couch to look up at Kaneki, his eyes big and bright. “Kaneki, you don’t need a reason to care about people. And you definitely don’t need to explain yourself to me.”

You always know exactly what to say, Kaneki thought. He was in awe of his friend, completely captivated by all the things he knew he didn’t know, and all the things about this boy that could not be explained, and he wished that he could be the one person Hide confided in. But he knew. He knew it was only fair.

It wasn’t like Kaneki told him everything.

In fact, until recently, Kaneki had made it a rule of thumb to feed Hide the bare minimum of information.

“Thanks, Hide,” he murmured.

“No thanks needed, bro.” Hide was beaming, his eyes closed and his hands offered up, palms facing forward. “But you know… I’m kinda curious. Why did you go through so much trouble for Nishio?”

Because he was beginning to understand how Hide gained his information, he was hesitant to answer. He didn’t give any immediate reaction that might give Hide an idea of what he was thinking, because he could see his friend’s eye open a crack, the brown of his iris glistening at the corner beneath his heavy lashes. He was skilled at the art of observation. His eyes were probably very keen, and his mind worked far faster than Kaneki had ever given it credit for.

Hide was probing him for explanations without Kaneki even realizing it.

That seemed to be how Hide worked.

Could Kaneki even really blame him?

He sighed. There was no way around answering. He didn’t want to anger Hide, or anything, so he would have to tell him something. But what could he say? There was no real explanation for it, since the truth was out of the question. Kaneki was determined to save his friends, but Hide didn’t know, couldn’t know, that Kaneki was from some weird alternate future.

“I felt responsible,” he murmured, feeling dizzy from his lie. He didn’t want Hide to know how stressful this all was. “I brought Mado to Kamii. It was my fault Nishiki was caught.”

Hide stood up. All he did was nod, as if that explanation sufficed, as though it sated his undying curiosity, and that was honestly terrifying.

“You really feel responsible?” Hide’s eyes gave away nothing but a soft, distant emotion that Kaneki could not put a name to.

“Yes,” he said. It was a firm, focused reply, his eyes boring into Hide’s. He needed to make sure that there was an understanding between them. Kaneki was ready to make absolutely no sense if it meant he could fool Hide about this one thing.

“Okay.” Hide nodded. There were no more questions. He merely shrugged on his backpack and clapped Kaneki on the shoulder. “Let’s go see him.”

“What?” Kaneki asked flatly.

Hide glanced at him, and he grinned boldly. “That guy was definitely hiding something,” he said. “I think it was more than just him being a ghoul. He was a pretty nasty dude, but I feel like he couldn’t have been all bad.” He gripped Kaneki’s shoulder, his grin sliding away. “I’m going to trust you. If you think he was worth saving, I want to understand why.”

I will never understand you, Kaneki thought in blatant awe. It was a truth he could not deny. He’d never understood and he’d never understand.

It was a fate resigned to simply gaping at a blinding mystery for all of eternity.

So Kaneki nodded. He nodded, and they both set off.

Kaneki had gotten an extra day off from Amon, so he thought this was probably as good a time as any to make the dreaded visit to Anteiku. He didn’t know if the fact that Hide was with him made him more anxious, or if he felt more comfortable. He didn’t know what was going to happen, if he was taking the right steps, making the right choices, but he supposed that was simply life.

“You seem kinda down.” Hide tilted his head. “Dude, if I said something I shouldn’t have, you gotta let me know. I’m not really used to speaking up about what’s on my mind.”

“No, no!” Kaneki shook his head furiously. “What you did was really cool! I just… I don’t know. I’m worried, I think.”

“Everything will turn out okay,” Hide told him gently.

Kaneki listened to his own vicious exhale, and he wished he could tell Hide that the world didn’t work like that. Nothing was okay. Everything fucking sucked.

The world worked as an unsteady hand, jerking people around like a needle made to pierce through an eye and lobotomize you.

“Don’t you have class?” he asked, sticking his hands into the pocket of his sweater as they paused at an intersection. Anteiku was in clear sight now, and just glancing at the building made his stomach tie into tight knots. His breath had hitched. He was terrified.

“Yeah, I can go after this.” Hide shrugged. “No big deal.”

Yeah, okay. Hide said that, but Kaneki had a feeling he was slacking. He eyed him coldly, and Hide threw his hands up in defense.

“I swear I’ll get to class on time!” he gasped. “Holy shit, Kaneki, what is with that scary look?”

Kaneki forced himself to relax, if only because Hide’s words felt like a slap. Had his look really been scary? He didn’t know. He didn’t know what he looked like when he utilized his more unsavory personality traits. Things that he’d picked up from others. He knew that he was just reflecting the intimidation tactics he’d seen used on him, but it was hard to shake off a facet of your personality after incorporating it.

“I just don’t want you to fall behind,” he murmured. Because he wanted Hide to have a future. He wanted Hide to continue to live, to thrive, to have hope in a world where he was destined to fall.

If Kaneki could change just one thing. Just one…

He thought, for sure, that it would have to be that destiny.

The smell of coffee beans hit him, and nostalgia dug its mighty claws into his gut. A bell rung inside his head, a distant reminder of days that had shuffled past in such a daze, everything seeming so damn hard, everything seeming so damn perfect. He felt like he’d stepped into a dream, like his mind was floating in the slow current of his memory and his body was frozen in a horrified state.

Coffee made his mouth water.

The simple scent of it made his eyes water.

He was such a sentimental fool.

“Yo!” Koma was standing behind the counter. He was looking at Hide, paying no mind to Kaneki, who was digging his nails into his palms, his fists thrust into the pockets of his sweater. He had to keep from crying. It’d be too difficult to explain. “Touka’s not here, buddy, hate to say. Want me to tell her you stopped by?” Koma was wiggling his eyebrows.

“Touka’s not here?” Hide’s voice managed to hit a soft, miserable pitch that was truly lamentable. He spoke Touka’s name with an almost forced familiarity. Touka-chan. Touka-chan! That tone would never change. “Damn! I guess there wasn’t even really a point, huh, Kaneki?”

Koma’s eyes flashed to Kaneki’s face. His playful expression turned into something like shock, his mouth opening wide as though he had words stuck inside his throat, but he couldn’t manage to choke them out.

“Touka is still in high school, Hide,” Kaneki reminded his friend gently. He knew Hide already knew that, but he needed to act normal. “Some people actually care about school.”

“Says the drop out!” Hide scoffed, hopping up to the bar. He smiled at Koma brightly. “Can I get a cappuccino, then?”

“You got it,” Koma said, snapping out of his shock and throwing Hide a firm thumbs up. He looked at Kaneki pointedly.

“I’m okay, thank you,” Kaneki said nervously. He glanced at the door beside the counter the led upstairs. “I actually wanted to ask you something. It’s about a mutual friend.”

Koma stared at him. He kept a fake smile easily in place for the benefit of the customers, who Kaneki sensed did not suspect anything. Hide was sitting at the counter, leaning forward on his elbows and gazing into space somewhere past Koma’s head.

“I see,” Koma said, drumming his hands against the countertop. “Okay, then. I can’t really leave the counter, but I can call someone for you.”

“That’s fine.” Kaneki’s palms were sweating. He could sense the innate distrust in Koma, but he knew that the man was curious. He also knew that he was mildly impressed with Kaneki. He could tell by way he smiled.

Koma made a call quickly with the phone under the counter. Kaneki knew it was to Yoshimura. Irimi probably had the day off, and there was no one else to help except perhaps Yomo. And Kaneki sincerely doubted Koma was calling Yomo.

“Kay,” Koma said, throwing a wary glance Kaneki’s way. “You can go right up. Kaneki, was it?”

This was always difficult. Speaking to someone he knew well, speaking to a friend that he’d known once, but who did not know him in the slightest, was always a struggle. Kaneki had thought Touka would be the hardest. He’d thought speaking to her would feel like hell, like he was screaming and screaming and screaming and forced to scream forever to try and catch her attention, but she’d never hear. That was not the case. Talking to Touka had felt so refreshing, so undeniably nice regardless of the unpleasant conversations, that he just didn’t care about anything else. She did all the screaming for him. And she could scream at him forever, and he’d never love her any less.

But talking to Koma was different. Koma hadn’t been as close to him as Touka had, even if he considered Koma a friend. So now it hurt. Now, speaking with this man who watched him with equal awe and equal caution, Kaneki was filled with something like regret. Like he needed to change more and more and more. Like what he’d had last time hadn’t been enough. He wished he could understand why he hungered for things so petty as simply having more time. As though any amount of measurable time could add up to enough.

Kaneki was greedy. He would never have enough.

The stairs took him up to the first floor where Yoshimura was waiting with his kind smile. He motioned for Kaneki to follow him up the stairs again.

“You’ve returned,” he remarked in his low, level tone. “I thought you might.”

“I’m sorry.” Kaneki watched the man’s back tiredly. He wanted to hug him. To tell him that he was one of the kindest people he’d ever met, that none of it had been his fault, that he didn’t need to protect Kaneki and put his life and livelihood at risk. But his mouth was dry, and he could only apologize.

“I haven’t a clue why you’re apologizing.” Yoshimura’s steps were even. He ascended with the kind of grace that Kaneki sorely envied, slow and steady and stable. He was a picture of perfect stability, and Kaneki had never had that sort of confidence in him. “You did what you thought was right. I cannot condemn your choice, Kaneki. Especially if you have good intentions at heart.”

“But…” Kaneki watched his own feet as they scraped against the stairs. “Sir, what if my actions end up putting everyone in more danger? Aren’t you scared of that?”

“You are taking an enormous risk,” Yoshimura murmured, “for the benefit of ghouls. I am very scared, I’ll admit that.” He paused at the landing, and he turned to face Kaneki. His expression was somber. “But I am scared solely for you.”

Kaneki took a deep breath. Listening to Yoshimura speak felt like a dream of a dream of a dream. He was another one. He knew exactly what to say. These kinds of people were the ones Kaneki really needed to surround himself with.

“I’ll be okay, I think,” he tried to reassure the old man, rubbing his chin as he glanced up at the ceiling. “I really appreciate your concern, though.”

“Kaneki, what you did for Nishio was more than simply admirable.” Yoshimura’s hand reached out, and Kaneki jumped as he was clapped on the shoulder. “You understand that, don’t you? What you did was bordering heroic.”

“I was only trying to fix a mistake, sir,” Kaneki confessed urgently, feeling that the manager was praising him far too much. “Honestly, I don’t know what I would have done if I’d been taken to catch a ghoul I didn’t already know. I probably would have just let the doves kill them.”

“You speak as though you are not one of them,” Yoshimura observed.

Kaneki flushed. He stared up at the man, and he said nothing. Perhaps that was the right answer.

The man began to smile again.

“I can only hope you weren’t followed,” he said.

“I had the day off, so I doubt it.” He didn’t really believe that, but Hide had convinced him that his worries were senseless. And Hide seemed to know everything. Kaneki followed him down the hall. It didn’t take him long to realize they were headed toward Touka’s apartment. “And if I was, Hide can cover for me. He’s good at that.”

Yoshimura’s eyes opened, and he looked down at Kaneki with curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Your friend… does he know?”

Kaneki recollected the stories he’d been told by this man. The stories that had seemed like fairy tales, like nightmares, like urban legends. The story of how the one eyed king had manifested. Because Yoshimura had loved and confided in a human.

“Yes,” Kaneki said, meeting Yoshimura’s gaze sharply. “I hope that won’t be a problem.”

Once again Yoshimura relaxed his expression, keeping it at its most serene. He closed his eyes. “No,” he said with a smile, “he’s far less of a risk than you are, if I may be frank. I’m glad that you were able to be accepted by a human.”

“Hide’s honestly amazing,” Kaneki admitted. “When I told him, he was completely calm. He even offered to figure out something for me for food.” Kaneki shook his head furiously. “Obviously I didn’t take him up on it, but needless to say, you can trust him.”

“That is very good to know.” Yoshimura didn’t let his voice betray his surprise, but Kaneki could sense it. There was sadness in the way he slumped. His body language gave him away, but that was only because Kaneki knew. He knew the tragedy that had befallen him. “That could be very useful in the future.”

“Yeah,” Kaneki gasped, “actually, um, I was thinking. Since I don’t want to attract doves here, I figured if I need to warn you guys about stuff, or something, I could send Hide. And you could send him back to me with a reply. Like a messenger pigeon.”

Yoshimura paused. They had reached Touka’s door. He seemed to be mulling over Kaneki’s words, which made Kaneki nervous, so he just carried on quickly.

“I want to find the time to come here myself,” Kaneki said, feeling guilty for not being clear on his feelings for Anteiku. “But honestly, I’m scared that one of the doves might end up following me here. And the investigator who is my superior, he has unbelievably sharp instincts when it comes to differentiating ghouls from humans. He’d know the moment he walked into this place that it was run by ghouls.”

Yoshimura grimaced. “Yes,” he sighed. “That could cause a problem.”

In his mind he could see doves lining the streets, hundreds of them scattering as they attempted to get a stab at Anteiku. He could see Amon with his fiery eyes and his cold words, and he could feel every insult like a stab in the gut. Amon existed as the face on the back of a coin. He was heads and Kaneki was tails, and neither of them could really see or understand each other, but they knew and accepted that the other was there.

“Yes…” Kaneki swallowed thickly.

Yoshimura placed his hand on Kaneki’s head. Kaneki could only jolt in alarm.

“You shouldn’t worry so much about Anteiku,” the manager told Kaneki gently. “We are quite capable of taking care of ourselves.”

He found himself bowing his head. He hadn’t meant to offend anyone, but he supposed it was only natural that his actions felt unnecessary. They couldn’t know what fate lay ahead of them, what the consequences of his existence would be.

Yoshimura let Kaneki inside of Touka’s apartment. For a moment Kaneki could forget that he was a total stranger to her. Because he was hit with the overwhelming scent of her, an aroma that perpetually hung in the air, intermingling and forming an unmistakable signature. This scent was Touka. It was the heavy musk of ground coffee beans, too strong to mask, but layered with additional perfumes. Coconuts. He was pretty sure that was the smell of the soap she used. Body wash. Lavender. He knew for certain that was the shampoo she used, because whenever he got too close to her, whenever her hair shifted, he always got a noseful of that flowery scent. Sometimes when he thought of Touka, he thought of bushels of lavender. Sea salt. He couldn’t be sure where that scent came from. But it was there. It clung to her. It lingered in the air after she was gone.

Sometimes Kaneki would dream that he’d follow that scent, follow a trail of Touka’s signature until he found himself in a field of rotting flowers with Death at the center. And Death, he held a beautiful, unstable red wing in his right hand. The fiery feathers twitched and guttered and spat. And two blazing shards came sailing toward him, whistling through the air and burrowing themselves inside his eyes in a great explosion of pain, his head, his head, his head, going right through his head.

“Kaneki?”

He found himself in Touka’s room. It surprised him, because he didn’t remember moving beyond Touka’s threshold, but it must have happened. He was staring at Nishiki, their eyes on one another, taking each other in with unreadable expressions.

“You look better,” Kaneki observed.

Nishiki scoffed. He sat up, wincing a bit, and he squinted at Kaneki’s face. “Yeah, so do you,” he said, frowning as his eyes landed on Kaneki’s stomach. “Healed right up, huh?”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Kaneki offered sheepishly, “I was in the hospital for two days.”

“They sent you to a hospital?” Nishiki rolled his eyes. He’d been lying on a bed, his glasses off and his eyes tired. He’d probably been sleeping. Kaneki felt mildly guilty for waking him up. “I thought the doves would’ve carved you up for sure.”

“No…” Kaneki glanced at Yoshimura, who stood calmly by the door of Touka’s room. Perhaps he didn’t trust Kaneki as much as he’d let on. “I think they were trying to put me into a medically induced coma, though.”

“Uh, what?” Nishiki’s eyes widened, and fumbled for his glasses. He seemed to be thinking this over, trying to comprehend what that could mean for Kaneki. When he had his glasses on, he stared at Kaneki’s face for a long time. He was likely looking for traces of emotion that might explain how Kaneki felt about this, but Kaneki knew better. There was no emotion to give.

“I’m not stupid, Nishiki,” Kaneki told him quietly. He decided not to meet his eye as he spoke. “I know how dangerous it is to be actively involved with the CCG. But for now, I’m probably more use to them alive than anything else.” He’d thought this over by himself, in the dark, in the lonesome silence of his apartment. He’d made this conclusion a hundred times over. “They don’t like the idea of me, but they’d rather be in control of me than let me slip away. So as long as they can weaponize me, I’ll probably be fine.”

“That’s really not assuring,” Nishiki said flatly, “like, at all. Are you fucking kidding?”

Kaneki averted his eyes. He’d been expecting this. “No,” he said. “I’m serious. I’m probably just going to give the CCG what they want.”

“Then what the fuck is even the point?” Nishiki snapped, jerking to his feet.  “You’re just gonna do what you’re told? Like a goddamn dog?”

“That’s what you’ve been calling me,” Kaneki replied distantly. “Maybe it’d be better to be a dog than a monster.”

“Oh, wow,” Nishiki sneered. “Wow! You know, I thought for a little while that maybe I was wrong about you? But nah, man, you’re just as fucking spineless as I thought!”

“Nishiki,” Yoshimura warned. Kaneki glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. He’d nearly forgotten the man was there.

“You can hate me if you want,” Kaneki told Nishiki, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his sweater. “I ruined your life. It was an accident, but that doesn’t really help anyone. You can’t go back to being the person you were a week ago. You know that, right?”

“Unlike you,” Nishiki spat, throwing a fierce glare from behind the lenses of his glasses, “I’ve been a ghoul all my life. This situation isn’t fucking new.” He stretched his legs out, his head lolling back. He’d slumped in defeat. “You’re lucky, you know, asshole? You have no idea what it’s like to live your whole life knowing you might have to completely erase and reinvent yourself at a moment’s notice.”

Kaneki could only exhale. What Nishiki was saying was completely valid. Because Kaneki had lived a very privileged life up until the day Rize had decided to make him her next victim.

“You should get out of the twentieth ward if you can,” Kaneki said in a clipped, empty voice. He didn’t want Nishiki to know how sad he was. He didn’t want Nishiki to think he cared, because that would honestly just make everything so much worse. “Right now there aren’t many field investigators, but I have a feeling that’ll change soon.”

Nishiki’s jaw clenched, a sign that he wasn’t having any of Kaneki’s shit, but he couldn’t really argue. There was no sense in staying. It was pretty much a death wish to stay. But Kaneki knew he wanted to. He knew exactly what Nishiki was thinking. What about Kimi? Even now, even on the brink of being caught and executed, Nishiki had very little concern for his own safety.

“I may have a job for you, actually,” Yoshimura piped up. Kaneki looked at him, unable to conceal his shock. Nishiki couldn’t possibly work at Anteiku now. Not after the CCG had already exposed him as a ghoul! It was practically suicide.

“Huh?” Nishiki wrinkled his nose. “Are you pulling my leg, old man?”

“I am entirely serious.” Yoshimura was not smiling. His eyes were open, and he watched Nishiki beneath the heavy bags that hung around them. “It may not be a desirable position, but I have made the arrangements. Your freedom would be rather restricted due to your current fugitive status, but you would have a place to stay and a job to do.” Yoshimura sighed, and he closed his eyes solemnly. “For us ghouls, sometimes that is more than enough to keep us moving forward.”

Kaneki could not deny that he was right. After he’d left Anteiku, after he’d been tortured, the only thing that had inspired him to get up out of bed was the thought of finding answers. The thought of enacting vengeance. Becoming stronger. It was truly an impressive force, the thirst for retribution.

“Well, shit…” Nishiki groaned, running his fingers through his hair. There was desperation leaking into his voice, the low drawl of someone realizing he was at the end of his rope. He held his head in both hands, staring, staring, staring past Kaneki and Yoshimura and into a void beyond them. His eyes squeezed shut. He let his hands drop into his lap. “I guess… I don’t really have a choice, huh?”

“You always have a choice, Nishiki,” Yoshimura said. “However, if you decide not to take my offer, we cannot help you any further. You will have to leave.”

“Yeah,” Nishiki muttered. “I haven’t got any choice.”

Yoshimura grimaced. Kaneki didn’t blame him. It was a bad situation no matter how it was sliced. Nishiki would be forced to live a life in hiding.

“You’ll relocate and begin tonight,” Yoshimura said. Kaneki turned away, glancing around Touka’s room. He was trying to seem uninterested, like this didn’t concern him, but it did, and it hurt. It hurt that he’d done this. That it was all his fault. “The man you’ll be staying with is named Yomo Renji. He’s very quiet, but he is the most trustworthy man I know.”

Ah, that made sense! So Nishiki would be going with Yomo to avoid being caught by the CCG. That meant that Nishiki would probably be doing the grunt work of Anteiku. Kaneki did not envy him.

“Okay.” Nishiki sounded a little dead.

The sound of rain made Kaneki’s eyes turn toward the window. It was a calming sound. Soft, distant pattering. Incessant, discordant pressure. He found himself drawn to the window, if only to peer through the distorted glass.

He saw two figures down below.

Suddenly his heart stopped.

Suddenly he was reeling in horror.

Because he knew.

It was all coming back to him. He knew those figures. He knew those backs. He watched the little girl swing her mother’s arm, her fingers laced within hers.

Mrs. Fueguchi held the borrowed umbrella tightly. She must have talked to Yoshimura before Kaneki had came. She’d probably been with Hinami all this time. All this time that Kaneki should have, would have, had been with her.

“Shit,” he exhaled, his palm slapping against the cool glass. His breath hit the window, and a mist of fog blocked the Fueguchis from view. “No, no, no, no…”

“Kaneki?” Yoshimura sounded concerned, but Kaneki couldn’t bring himself to care. He whirled around, kicking off into a sprint.

He said nothing as he bolted out of the room, out of Touka’s apartment, and flew down the stairs. He listened to his feet pound against the steps, frantic and out of rhythm, like his unsteady heartbeat. Panic had settled within him, and he was going to scream.

This couldn’t happen again.

This was something he’d planned to change.

Had he been too lax? Had he just assumed that by joining the CCG he could change such an event in time?

He was such a fucking fool!

“Kaneki?” Hide asked vacantly as Kaneki flung himself through the door beside the counter, skidding across the floor and ignoring the odd looks Anteiku’s customers were giving him. Koma was staring with wide, wary eyes. “Yo, buddy, what’s wrong?”

Kaneki was thinking. He had to think. He had to remember how this had all gone if he wanted to change it.

If he was unable to intercept Mrs. Fueguchi before she ran into Mado and Amon…

“Hide,” Kaneki breathed, his fingers trembling at the handle of the door. He couldn’t look back. He couldn’t look back. This was why he’d chosen this path. This was why he wanted to make a difference. “I’m… about to do something really stupid, I think.”

Hide didn’t respond. The stool at the counter screeched against the floor. Kaneki flung the door open, and he ran. His sneakers splashed against the pavement, chilly rain hitting his face and beating at his back. He was determined now. If he could stop Ryouko and Hinami before the CCG got to them, then this would all be easy. But he knew that there was a chance… because he’d spotted them too late…

He didn’t know what direction to go. He’d lost sight of them. So he just ran. He thought about Hinami, about her swampy eyes, her glistening tears, and he knew he could not abandon that girl, not so long as he lived.

He could hear nothing but his own ragged breath and the crashing of his feet upon the watery ground. Rain spilt into his eyes, and he kept going, his senses spiking as he recollected his own ability. He skidded to a stop, blinking through the sheets of rain, and he saw an awning nearby. He shoved through a small crowd of people and rushed across the street, too fast to be caught by a car rushing by. He listened to the blare of a horn about five seconds after he’d reached the other side of the street.

The awning was slippery, so it was a little wild gaining traction, but getting onto it was pretty easy. He’d just kicked off the side of the building. I can do this, he thought firmly. He jumped, catching a windowsill, and he let himself scale the side of this building, his muscles working themselves to the brink. More than once he nearly slipped. More than once he was chiding himself that he was wasting so much fucking time. More than once he stopped, his breathing erratic and his forehead scraping stone, and he wanted to push off the wet ridges and fall backwards into the street. He’d scaled buildings before. Honestly, this was nothing. He had to tell himself that. That it was nothing. His mind knew what to do. It was just that his body wasn’t used to the strain. That was okay. It was okay.

Because his body would do whatever the fuck he told it to.

When he reached the roof, he sprung into a crouch, his breathing uneven and his eyesight bleary due to rain and sweat. He squinted down into the street, and then moved his head to survey the next street. Then another.

The distant blobs of white set off alarms inside Kaneki’s head. He knew without a doubt that they were doves. Likely, it was Amon and Mado. Even more likely, the beige sheen he saw beneath the mist of rain was Ryouko Fueguchi.

Which meant that little smear fleeing in the opposite direction was Hinami.

“Right,” Kaneki breathed. He pushed off the roof, kicking off the side of the building to slow his crashing fall to the ground. When he neared the pavement, he tucked his body into a ball, shouldering the concrete and halting his landing into a sharp roll. He jumped up to his feet, his heart hammering in his chest, and he sprung right back into a sprint.

If anybody had seen that, it probably didn’t matter. After all, the CCG knew all about him.

The rain was making it difficult to navigate. He knew he would have to turn right soon, but there were little alleys that made him falter. He skidded to a stop as a small girl rushed past him, a blur of white in the grayscale afternoon.

Kaneki turned on his heel, and he cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hinami!” he shouted, his voice shattered by the pattering of rain.

She immediately stopped. She rocked in place, swaying dizzily as she turned, her wet face gaping up at him in alarm. Tears and rain soaked her cheeks. She was drenched.

He held up his hands in a form of surrender. Her eyes were glistening, wide and wild from fear and uncertainty, and her little shoulders trembled as he took a small step forward. And then another.

She stepped back.

“Hey,” he gasped, smiling at her gently. “Hey, Hinami, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“How do you know my name?” she choked, her hands folding against her chest, her feet backpedaling at an alarming rate. Her shoes scraped the glistening sidewalk, fumbling uselessly and teetering as she stumbled away from him.

Kaneki felt awful. Everything about this made him feel miserable, because she didn’t know him, she didn’t know him at all, and he was so desperate to get to her that he didn’t care about the consequences. He knew her name. He knew everything about her. But she’d never seen him before a day in her life.

“I work at Anteiku,” he said, half a lie, half a wish. “Yoshimura told me—”

He didn’t need to finish his sentence. She’d already thrown her arms around him, a sob catching into his sweater. Her tiny fingers dug into his back, and he blinked, catching her gingerly. Her coat and hair were damp, and she was shaking so badly that he thought he might snap one of her bones if he tried to hug her any tighter. He crouched before her so she could bury her face in his shoulder.

“M-my mom—!” Hinami sobbed, her little voice breaking in time with the splash of rain on the sidewalk. “My mom, she— she’s all alone! She’s alone!”

“Shh,” Kaneki murmured, closing his eyes. “Don’t worry. I’ll go find her.”

“L-let me—!” She pulled back, rubbing her eyes furiously. “I can take you—!”

“No,” Kaneki told her firmly. “You need to go back to Anteiku. Understand?”

She stared up at him, eyes big and round and glistening. Her lips trembled miserably. Then she shook her head. She shook it furiously, releasing him only to ball her hands into fists at her side. Tears streamed down her face, snot dribbling from her nose, but she glared at him through it all.

“No,” she gasped, “no way! I have to go back! I have to help mom!”

“Hinami, listen,” Kaneki murmured. He unzipped his sweater, shrugging it off slowly. He knew he didn’t have much time. “You know what’s happening right? Those guys who stopped you and your mom, they’re doves. If you go back, they might hurt you.”

“You…” She sniffled, eyes flitting across his face bemusedly. “You smell… different.”

“I’m a ghoul who used to be human,” he explained softly, throwing his sweater over her shoulders. “My name is Kaneki Ken. And I’m going to try my hardest to save your mother.”

She stared up at him, her mouth parting in awe. And then, alarmingly, her lips split into a timid smile.

“Okay,” she gasped, nodding firmly. “Okay. I understand. I think…”

Over her head, Kaneki saw something. From behind the wall of a building, a silhouette had appeared. Instinctively, Kaneki drew Hinami closer.

Through the haze of rain, the figure came into clear sight.

Hide’s bleached hair looked almost brown in the rain. Damp and curling in soft waves across his forehead. His eyes were not accusatory or inquisitive. They were simply dull and sad.

It was an odd look for him. Like his happiness and energy had been stripped from him, and Kaneki was staring into his naked soul.

Reluctantly, Kaneki released Hinami.

“Hey,” he gasped, looking down at Hinami and beaming at her, “my friend is gonna take you back to Anteiku, okay?”

“Uh…” Hinami shot a glance at Hide, her tears still leaking onto her cheeks. “Okay… but, Kaneki… you’ll come back, right?”

I’m a complete stranger, Kaneki thought sadly, and she already cares way too much about what might happen to me.

“Don’t worry about me,” he told her with a tiny laugh. “It’s fine. Hide your face, okay?” He yanked his hood up so it covered her face, and a laugh bubbled up from her lips. He stood, and she pushed his hood back to watch him with her keen eyes.

“Hide,” Kaneki said, resting a hand on Hinami’s head. “Can you take care of her for me?”

Hide stared at him. He spared Hinami a quick glance, and he offered her a bright smile. “Hey, there, kiddo,” he gasped. “How old are you?”

She looked at him quizzically. “I’m thirteen,” she said cautiously.

“Oh, what?” Hide smacked his head. “Wow, really? You look so young!”

Kaneki couldn’t see Hinami’s reaction due to his hood covering her face, but he sensed she was flustered. He turned away, making a map in his head from the image he’d seen when he’d scaled that building. If he made the next turn, he’d probably be able to see where Ryouko and the investigators were.

“Hey, Kaneki?” Hide called.

Kaneki turned, glancing at him confusedly.

Hide already had Hinami on his back, her chin resting in his damp blonde hair. He smiled at Kaneki, something sad, something sweet.

“Don’t be too stupid, okay?” He offered his broadest grin. And Kaneki knew what he was asking of him.

Don’t you dare fucking die, dude.

Kaneki could see it in the glaze of Hide’s eyes.

It was a plea more than anything else.

Because Hide had already figured it all out. Hinami. Ryouko. The CCG. It was pretty much confirmed that Hide had been following Kaneki since he’d left Anteiku, probably out of panic. Which means he saw me scale that building, he thought in horror. But he didn’t have time to lament over his mistake.

He smiled back at Hide, and he nodded firmly.

And then he set off once more.

The wind and the rain and the echo of his feet clapping against the puddles, splashing water into the air, that was all he could hear. When he turned, he found himself running right toward a horror scene. He was sprinting toward the backs of the investigators, his breathing sharp and his eyes narrowing furiously.

He could hear Mado’s voice. It cut right through him.

“You’re a complete idiot, aren’t you?” There was laughter in the mad man’s voice, that sharp chuckle that he always sounded when he was so very fucking amused. “If you had come along obediently, you wouldn’t have had to die in the middle of the street.”

Kaneki breezed past the bureau investigators, Kusaba and Nakajima. They both gave shuddering shouts, and Amon turned sharply. When his eyes met Kaneki’s, they widened considerably. But Kaneki couldn’t care about that. He couldn’t care. He needed to do what he’d promised himself he’d do.

And if he died here… then he supposed everything would be fine.

After all, everything after this… it had just all been his fault.

So if he died here, he would have no regrets.

Maybe this was the reason why he’d gotten this second chance to begin with.

Because when Death had struck him down, he’d had nothing left to him but regrets.

Now, though… Hinami was safe… Hide was with her… Touka wasn’t going to worry about him, or feel guilty… Anteiku would be saved.

He felt content.

“Mado!” Kaneki snarled.

Ryouko was in bad shape. She was bleeding profusely from multiple places, from her glazed eyes and her parted lips and her button nose, and her kagune had wilted at her sides. But her blood encrusted eyelids had snapped open at the sound of his voice. She stared at him. And Mado turned slowly, his head cocking curiously.

“Oh?” He shot Kaneki a smooth, wormy smile. “So you decided to come and watch the show, huh, Ken? Well, you missed most of it.” He lifted his quinque, the one he’d made from Hinami’s father, and Kaneki felt sick. This was his nightmare. Ryouko was living his nightmare.

“Stop.” He marched forward. Amon called after him.

“Kaneki, that woman is dangerous!” Amon’s voice was sharp, stinging with a cool warning.

“Oh,” Kaneki said flatly. He kept moving forward. “Is that why she’s slumped in the middle of the street, bleeding pretty much everywhere?”

“This is a ghoul, Ken,” Mado said, smiling at Kaneki brightly. “As I’m sure you’re aware, we are ghoul investigators. This is our job.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Kaneki snapped. “I didn’t realize psychologically torturing someone before you straight up murder them was part of the job description!”

“Kaneki!” Amon’s hands came down, clapping onto Kaneki’s shoulders and dragged him back. Kaneki found himself furious. “Stop. Right now. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“No, I get it!” Kaneki wrenched himself free, shoving Amon away sharply. “I get that you’re picking off weak ghouls who can’t defend themselves. That’s not even remotely okay.”

“Ghouls are trash, Kaneki,” Amon snapped. “Ghouls are not like you! I don’t care what you’ve come to believe, but you are not a ghoul!”

Kaneki found himself glowering at him. His words had struck him very hard. Because after everything that had happened, even though Kaneki had so very much wanted to be anything but what he was, he didn’t want to go back. He was okay with being a ghoul now. He’d accepted that part of him.

And he didn’t like people telling him what he was and what he was not.

He took three large steps back. He stepped between Ryouko and Mado, who let him do so without so much as a glance. Perhaps he was waiting for the opportunity to use that quinque to slice Kaneki in half.

It wouldn’t happen.

He threw his arms out, his kagune unfurling at his back, slithering around him. He glared at Mado’s sunken face.

“I told you once,” he said in a cold, vicious tone, “and I’ll tell you again. My existence isn’t binary. I won’t choose! I know I’m human. I feel like a human. I have no interest in hunting and killing. But that can’t be solely a human trait! I know that there have to be ghouls who feel the same!”

“You’re speaking nonsense, Ken,” Mado sighed. “Honestly, you should get out of the way. If you do that, I won’t report this.”

“And what will you say, Mado?” Kaneki knew how to act under pressure. And he knew how to pressure others. He lifted his chin, and he tightened his jaw. “Ah. I see. So being a ghoul means I’m nothing more than trash, huh?” His eyes flashed to Amon’s. He could tell his words had struck him, because Amon had stiffened, his mouth opening and closing rapidly. “Okay, then. That’s fine with me. I don’t want to be the exception if it means I have to watch people like me— people who could be me— get slaughtered by you just because you don’t understand them.”

“They eat people, Kaneki!” Amon was pissed. He glared right back at him, his expression twisting into a disgusted sneer. “I told you. You need to watch what you say! You can’t keep defending them like this, it’s not realistic!”

“What has this woman done?” Kaneki snapped. “You can’t prove she’s hurt anyone!”

“She’s a ghoul.” Mado shrugged. “Being a ghoul is, in fact, enough, Ken. You understand? Eating human flesh, regardless of where it comes from, should not be permissible.”

“But I’m allowed to exist?” Kaneki was shaking. Rain trickled down his cheek. “Fuck you, honestly.”

“If you’re asking me to kill you,” Mado chirped gleefully, snapping his quinque like a whip, “I’ll be glad to oblige!”

“Mado,” Amon barked, losing his cool and snapping, “don’t touch him.”

“Amon, you’ve grown too attached to this one.” Mado tutted softly. He shook his head. “He’s obviously too far gone to save.”

“He’s just being compassionate.” Amon had calmed down enough that these words came out very softly. “He didn’t go to the academy. He doesn’t understand. You’ve mistaken his kindness for madness.”

“Ho…?” Mado shot Kaneki a wicked grin, and Kaneki sneered at him in response. “Oh, yes. That is the face of a purely kindhearted man. There is certainly no malice that I can see!”

Kaneki took a deep breath. He understood that he was under certain restrictions now, and that his kagune might not hold up for as long as he needed it. He glanced down at Ryouko, and he smiled at her.

“You should go,” he told her. “You’ve done enough.”

She stared up at him, blood caking her veined cheeks. She matched his smile perfectly, tears welling inside her eyes. Those eyes shifted past him, staring sadly into the space behind his head. She lifted her own head, and she dropped it in a jerky nod.

“I… don’t know who you are,” she whispered, folding her hands into her lap. “And I want to thank you, but… I can’t understand… why you’re helping me.”

Kaneki sighed. He knew this must have been weird for her. “You should really go,” he told her. “Go. Please. Go find your daughter. I can handle this.”

“My…?” Ryouko’s eyes widened. Fresh tears pooled in her eyes. Her chapped, blood-stained lips stretched into a thin smile. “Thank you. Thank you…”

Kaneki didn’t understand why she wasn’t running. He frowned, feeling that he must have said something wrong. Maybe she thought he wasn’t strong enough to take them? Well, he didn’t want to hurt them, but if he had to…

He realized where his mistake had fallen.

He’d been looking away for far too long.

A sharp click made him come to his senses. He turned his head sharply, expecting to find Mado bearing down on him with that awful quinque. But both Mado and Amon had moved to the sidelines. Mado was smirking, and Amon… he was watching Kaneki with disappointment in his dark eyes.

Nakajima was the one who stood before him.

Kaneki jerked one limb of his kagune, but the man was smart enough to keep a few meters distance. By the time Kaneki had made his move, a crack of the gunshot rang through the air, muffling even the thunderous patter of rain. He didn’t have the time to dodge, because he’d been so sure. He’d been so sure he could get the gun away in time.

The shot slammed into his abdomen, and he was knocked off his feet.

Chapter Text

Unlike his first imprisonment, his second round at Cochlea was unbearably frightening.

There wasn’t even much change to how he was treated. He was still locked in a solitary room, stripped of a cot and left with a stiff mat that had been stuffed in the corner of the cold, windowless cell. He was still drugged and stolen away at night, leaving gaps in his memory, leaving bruises in the crook of his elbow, and that terrified him more now than ever before. Because he felt like he’d really pissed them off. No one talked to him, told him what was happening outside the bare cement walls, and no one even so much as glanced at him like he had a pulse.

He was not even a prisoner here. He was a lab specimen.

There was no way around this, of course. He’d made himself a threat to the whole fucked up system the CCG had, so he clearly needed to be detained. It wasn’t like he hadn’t known the risk he’d been taking, but part of him had really just hoped that Mado would kill him instead of Ryouko. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he got to live while she… while she’d been butchered…

The RC suppressant had taken a minute to kick in. Kaneki recalled lying flat on his back, the puddle he’d landed in soaking through the cotton fibers of his dark blue shirt, and the vicious ringing of his equilibrium being blown off rattled inside his ears. Rain had gathered on his cheeks, long silver strings connecting the blackened road to the steely heavens. Bullets of cold water caught inside his eyes as the world swam around him, and his limbs turned to blocks of lead.

He felt himself being dragged upright, hands beneath his arms and pulling his limp body backwards. Instinctively, Kaneki had fought the grip, thrusting his elbow back and catching Amon in the collarbone. The man let out a sharp, pained gasp, his grip on Kaneki loosening enough that he could launch himself back into the street, rolling and scraping against the asphalt. He couldn’t properly hold himself upright, no matter how hard he pushed, and he could only lift his upper body a few meager centimeters off the ground.

“That was a little pathetic, Ken,” Mado had told him in a faux sympathetic voice. Kaneki had raised his head, and he could feel his kakugan, the outpour of veins lacing beneath his skin and going taut. He pushed himself shakily to his hands and knees, his vision swimming as he shot Mado the most disgusted, vehement glare he could muster. He could feel his body shuddering, his breath shaky and his mind whirring, ears ringing and pincers clicking, and he bared his teeth. “Oho! What’s that look for? Do you really think you can fight me?”

“You honestly want to try me?” Kaneki’s voice had been thick, and he knew the RC suppressants had been laced with a sedative. He knew. He knew he could not win this fight. But he’d gone on, desperate to fix this one thing, desperate for Ryouko to just fucking run. She didn’t. She was frozen in place, wilted more thoroughly than the crumpled, leathery wings of her kagune that gathered at her sides. She had no will left. She’d already sacrificed herself.

She was already dead.

Mado had turned toward Kaneki. In the daze of his vision, in the shuddering sight that fed into his brain, he saw Mado tighten his grip on his quinque. Kaneki forced himself to sit upright, his glower still going strong, his teeth bare and flashing in the gray slates that poured down upon them.

It hadn’t occurred to Kaneki until it was far too late that Mado was winding back in the wrong direction.

“Wait, no—!” Kaneki had lurched forward, nearly diving into the path of the snapping, bone-like quinque, but a pair of arms had snatched him up from behind and yanked him back. Kaneki watched in horror as the spiny whip smashed into Ryouko’s skull, causing it to tear itself unceremoniously from the weak grip her spinal cord seemed to have on it. Blood erupted into the bullets of rain, unstoppable in its quest to stain the street crimson.

Kaneki had heard himself screaming as blood and bits of brain splashed in a burst of warmth across his cheeks.

He didn’t remember much after that.

But he’d woken up on that stiff fucking mat, staring at the slate gray ceiling, and thinking to himself dully, Why is heaven so damn gray?

Now he felt like he was losing his grip.

He couldn’t even save Fueguchi Ryouko. How the hell was he going to save Anteiku?

They hadn’t listened to a word he’d said. He might as well be trash, disposable at any given moment! It was hopeless. He’d already lost.

He couldn’t get the CCG to even consider ghoul life to be even remotely valuable. He’d failed.

He was a solid fucking failure.

Training his body didn’t make him feel sane. He did the things he was used to doing, the things he’d mimicked, picked up from Touka, from Tsukiyama, from Yamori, from Rize, from even simple glances at some shounen manga. His memory was sharpening, and his dreams were filled with flashes of what had been, what could be, and it made him wake up screaming, his fingers scraping against his tongue, reaching toward the back of his throat to trigger a useless gag reflex.

He had to puke it up, he had to puke it up, he had to puke it up…

Push ups were nothing. Flips? Holy shit, that was easy! He could only keep on going with this routine, punching the air, balancing on his toes, making shows of things he’d only seen once, twice, thrice… and none of it was of his own design. He didn’t know where he was, but it was not Kaneki Ken making these movements.

He was just going through learned motions. Acting out a role he knew he didn’t fit.

His first visitor came a few days after his initial arrival. He didn’t know how many for sure, which was bad. He’d mapped out the progression of his own story from here, and he was scared. He didn’t know how long he’d be here, and he knew… he knew Touka. He knew what might happen if he didn’t warn her to stand the fuck down.

Anyway, his first visitor arrived with a copy of The Divine Comedy. It was slid into a little pocket in the wall which shot over to the other side. Kaneki picked it up gingerly, weighing it in his shackled hands as Amon glowered down at him.

Yep. He was still pissed.

“You didn’t have to do this,” Kaneki blurted, his fingers tightening over the thick, minimalistic red cover. He figured it had all three books inside, which made him slightly giddy. It had been such a genuinely thoughtful gesture, and Kaneki appreciated it more than he could say.

“No.” Amon’s voice was sharp. Biting. He didn’t have any chill to him, not even a little bit. Amon wasn’t like Kaneki in that aspect. Amon was burning with his rage, with his bitter disappointment, and he could have left Kaneki to rot, but instead he’d come and delivered a gift and glared a searing pit into Kaneki’s soul. Amon wanted Kaneki to know how distinctly furious he was. And it really did hurt. “I did not.”

“So…” Kaneki shifted uncomfortably under the furor of Amon’s gaze. “Um… do you… want an apology?”

“How about we start with what you’re apologizing for,” Amon said briskly, laying his hands flat on the shelf connected to the glass that divided them. “Go on. Tell me.”

“Uh…?” Kaneki closed his eyes so Amon wouldn’t see them roll back into his head. “Defending a ghoul? I guess?”

“You guess?”

“I don’t really want to apologize for that,” he said vacantly, opening his eyes and shooting Amon a cool stare to match his fiery glare.

“Do you want to be stuck in here forever?” Amon snapped, his thick eyebrows knitting together, wrinkles of confusion and rage lining his forehead beneath his neatly combed bangs. “Listen to me. What you did… it was stupid. Probably the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Kaneki nodded casually, closing his eyes as though he were agreeing with the fairness of the afternoon. He didn’t even know if it was afternoon. The time of day escaped him.

“However, it was really brave.” Amon exhaled sharply. He stared into Kaneki’s eyes, and he shook his head fiercely. “You are a nice kid. You really, genuinely are a nice person, and that’s why I’m so angry. You don’t deserve this.”

“And yet…?” Kaneki cracked a smile, which only made Amon scowl. He let the smile drop, and he sighed guiltily. Damn. “Amon… thank you, but… I’m actually not really all that nice.”

“I’m just going to stop you right there.” Amon held up one hand, his scowl deepening. “Honestly. You’re a little ridiculous. I don’t want to hear about your insecurities right now, Kaneki, they don’t matter. What matters is that you seriously screwed up!”

“I know,” Kaneki sighed. He bowed his head, his grip on the book tightening. He raised his eyes to Amon, and he smiled thinly. “I couldn’t save her.”

“You’re going to rot in here!” Amon’s palm slammed against the shelf. Hard. Kaneki couldn’t help but jump. “You might die!”

Kaneki swallowed back the words that had bubbled up inside his throat.

I’m already dead.

I should have died already.

I should already be dead.

But those words were accompanied by a heartbeat thundering inside his throat, gobbling them all up, and reminding him that he was alive.

“I did what I thought was right,” Kaneki said calmly. “I won’t apologize for that.”

Amon stared at him, his jaw clenching as he searched Kaneki’s face fervently.

“What?” Kaneki leaned forward, peering through the glass and letting his eyes flash wide. “Was I wrong to want to save a defenseless woman?”

“She fought us,” Amon said defensively, shaking his head. “No, she could’ve survived that! But she fought. She was just another stupid ghoul, Kaneki!”

“Ghouls aren’t stupid!” His eyes widened for real, and he could hear the offense taken to his voice. “They’re people! Whether you like it or not, they’re people who think and feel and die just like humans do!”

“And they hunt us for sport.”

“Not all of them!” Kaneki looked down at his wrists, the chains of his cuffs pooling into his lap. “If ghouls were naturally predatory… if they were hunters…” Kaneki looked up suddenly, his eyes widening in alarm. “If they all hunted humans, don’t you think the human race would be extinct by now?”

“What?” Amon asked flatly.

“Think about it!” Kaneki let his hands splay in midair, his voice heightening excitedly. He felt like he’d made a breakthrough. “Ghouls have been around since… well, honestly as long as I can remember, which means it’s probably been decades, centuries… but we don’t know where they come from, so they’re probably an offshoot of our genus, or something.” Kaneki winced, and he smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, science isn’t really my specialty, but you get what I’m saying right? There are obviously some terrible ghouls out there, but you can’t just demonize a whole species.”

“Yes,” Amon said flatly, “I literally can. Ghouls are, quite frankly, demonic.” He was annoyed. Oh shit, was he annoyed, he was just pinching the bridge of his nose, his jaw clenched, all rigid and scowling. It would have been funny if Kaneki didn’t feel so strongly, and if he actually didn’t like Amon. “Ghouls eat people. Stop defending them.”

“We don’t exactly have a choice, you know,” Kaneki said coldly. Amon’s eyes didn’t soften like they usually did when Kaneki reminded him that he was, in fact, a ghoul.

“Will swallow your pride for ten seconds and listen to me?” Amon hissed. Kaneki stared at him expectantly. He jerked a finger behind him, pointing directly at the upper left hand corner of the room. Kaneki followed his arm, and saw that there was a camera there. Ah. Shit, right. That could be a real problem. “Everything you say here is going to be taken into account. They might not let you go this time, Kaneki, you might…!” Amon’s voice seemed to die in his throat, his words caught hastily before they could spill out. The effect had been made, however.

“Amon…” Kaneki sighed. He closed his eyes, and he shook his head. “I didn’t come to the CCG to hurt innocent people. And because I’m a ghoul, I know that there is more value to them than just mindless man-eating monsters. Life is not that simple.”

“You value life because you’re human,” Amon insisted. “You care because you are human! You are never going to convince anyone that ghouls are anything more than garbage.”

“Then I’m garbage,” Kaneki said coolly. His throat was tight and his hands were shaking and he couldn’t shake the hollowness that swallowed him up inside, the open hole in his chest that devoured all feeling and made him inexplicably numb. He wished he could feel the pain he knew was attacking his senses, beating at his mind, but some part of him must have shut it out for defensive reasons, so now all he felt was perfect emptiness.

“That is not what I’m saying.” Amon was glaring at him furiously, as though that would make Kaneki feel any better about what he was saying.

“I don’t really care, Amon.” His grip tightened on the crimson hardcover of The Divine Comedy, his knuckles white as he tried to force the shaking to stop. “Thank you for the book, but you probably have a lot of work to do. You should go.”

Amon actually look hurt. Maybe he was shocked that Kaneki, who’d been trapped in isolation for days, was kicking him out of prison. Or maybe Amon just was one of those people who actually cared. Cared too much, in fact. Amon had a terrible habit of wearing his emotions on his sleeve when they became a bit too strong, and Kaneki knew that this had truly wounded not his ego, but his heart. It was likely that Amon had come prepared to argue all day until Kaneki relented, and Amon could run back to whoever the hell was in charge and happily declare Kaneki desensitized.

“Fine,” Amon said briskly. He stood up from his chair, turning away from Kaneki sharply. “I’ll be back.”

Kaneki was surprised. Amon actually wanted to come back to visit him again? Was he fucking joking?

“Yeah? And what if I don’t want you to come?” Kaneki snapped.

Chill. Real chill.

Amon stopped at the door, his eyes flashing heatedly.

“You won’t have much of a choice, will you?” he snapped right back.

They were acting like children. They were disputing like angry little kids. And, Kaneki supposed, that was a normal thing. Normalcy didn’t come easy, but with Amon, Kaneki felt enough at ease that he could enjoy this banter. The shitty thing was, this wasn’t harmless. He was really angry at Amon, and Amon was really angry at him, but did that mean they had to stop being friends?

It was weird. What kind of friendship could ignore such blatant bigotry?

But Amon was gone now, and Kaneki was escorted back to his cell without another word. A guard had torn The Divine Comedy from his grasp, shoving Kaneki back into his room and letting the door slide shut without so much as an explanation. It made him overwhelmingly sad, but that sadness would not spill into the hollowness of his chest cavity, so he was left with the stinging effect of tears in his eyes, the vicious thoughts of loathing and disgust thrashing his brain, but no real comfort in the tears, no real emotion seeping through the barrier.

He was just fucking empty.

This wasn’t new. This was, in fact, old news.

This was how things had felt after he’d been tortured.

He remembered. Touka had been hurt. That had made him so fucking angry, so fucking disgusted and enraged, but… but those feelings had not truly reached his heart. Even after, even when she’d begun joking and smiling and offering out her hand, expecting him to come along obediently, he’d felt nothing. It had been almost too easy to just abandon her there.

Abandon. That was a good word for it.

He’d just fucking abandoned Touka. Like she’d been a scrap of trash, or something.

Touka cared so fucking much… and he cared so fucking little… and it just never added up. It wasn’t fair. Nothing could work, not when they were both two vicious extremes circling on another, passion and passivity pushing and pulling each other apart.

It wasn’t fair.

Eventually the book had been returned to him, so Kaneki assumed it had been checked for like, weapons or something. It made sense, but it didn’t make him any less bitter.

Thinking about Touka made him scared. He couldn’t explain it, the simultaneous throttle of sadness and fear and disgust, so fucking dulled by the layer upon layer of carefully applied hollowness that it only made him feel like his mind was leaking out of his ears. This kind of emptiness could drive a man insane.

In fact, it probably already had.

Reading Inferno didn’t help. It made Kaneki feel like he was the one in hell.

And maybe he was.

Time was falling past him, and he was losing track of it rapidly. He did exercises, slept, drank the fucking concoction they gave him, let himself be picked and prodded at under a curtain of anesthesia, and he read Dante’s ornate poem until his eyes burned from exhaustion. And then it all repeated.

Well. It was hopeless. She’d really fucked up this time.

Her scuffed black shoes scraped against the pale brick, her bag swinging at her side as she came up to Anteiku, thinking bitterly about classical literature and just the all around bogus shit that it revolved around. She paused, reeling back for a moment as she noted the sign on the door had been flipped to CLOSED. Well, that was fucking weird. Was today supposed to be her day off? She couldn’t even remember, her brain was so fried after that goddamn fucking test.

“Good morning,” she called dulling, shouldering Anteiku’s door open, her hands stuffed in her sweater pockets.

“Touka.”

She glanced at the counter, and she relaxed. Yoshimura was standing there, and it made her stomach tie into an anxious knot, because she had to admit to her failure. God damn it.

“Ah, sir, you’re here after all,” she said, gesturing vaguely behind her. “The sign’s flipped the wrong way.” She shook her head, kicking the door closed behind her. “More importantly, just listen to this! I failed my test.” She could hear the ba-dum-tis of an imaginary drum that signified that her life was a joke.

“Touka…” Yoshimura sighed, and in that soft, resigned voice she could hear his age crinkling through him. “Could you come upstairs with me?”

The knot of anxiety that had appeared after she’d gotten her shitty test back intensified into something like a pit of snakes twisting and writhing around inside her stomach. She could feel the shakiness of her smile as she tilted her head.

“Uh… sure?” she offered, watching him move around the counter and to the stairs. She followed him slowly, wary of the situation. Was this about that asshole, Nishiki? The arrangement hadn’t been as bad as she’d expected, but she’d been gone for a few days, deciding to stay with Yoriko and suffer through the meals as they studied for exams. She just couldn’t take Nishiki being there as she stressed out, pouring over notes and textbooks and shit. He’d just make fun of her, or call her stupid.

Yoshimura led her to the room where they’d all met to discuss Nishiki. Koma and Irimi were sitting down, watching her with the most uncomfortably defeated expressions, while Yomo stood with his arms folded, glancing at her with his usual inscrutable gaze. Beside him, fucking Nishiki was leaning against the wall, wearing a black trenchcoat similar to Yomo’s, but more attune to the asshole’s fashion sense. He’d cut his hair since the last time she’d seen him, buzzing an undercut beneath smooth, bleached white curls. He kind of looked like he’d stepped out of a western film about a pop punk bounty hunter or something. He’d probably look really cool if it wasn’t fucking Nishiki.

“You look like a fucking nerd,” Touka told him blankly.

“Oh, shit,” Nishiki said dryly, clapping a hand over his heart. “I’m hit. I’m gonna die. Your shitty ass personality has drained me of life.”

“Why the fuck is this nerd here?” Touka snapped, jerking a thumb at Nishiki furiously. Her eyes were on Irimi and Koma, and then she noticed that there was another face watching her vacantly. Unruly blonde waves that didn’t reach the dark roots, irritatingly bright brown eyes, and an unnerving little smile that set her teeth on edge. She exhaled sharply, and she turned her attention from Nishiki to him. “You. Oh my god. Boss!” She wheeled around to look at Yoshimura desperately. “What the fuck is going on? Why is a customer here?”

“Nice to see you too, Touka,” the boy chirped. Ugh, his voice was so grating, too! Touka-chan! He said it was a weird sing-song lilt. She’d forgotten his name, because he’d been kinda irrelevant, so she’d taken to just thinking of him as Loud Flirt. He was so obnoxious. She’d wanted to punch him a thousand times, but she was just plain old good at her job, and she prided herself on good customer service.

“I’m out,” she muttered, turning toward the door. Yoshimura caught her by the arm, and she groaned. She returned to her place with a scowl.

“I’ve never seen you look so miserable, Touka,” Loud Flirt said softly, hanging over the back of the couch to stare at her. “Aw, even your pout is cute!”

“I’m not pouting,” she sneered at him. “Look, no offense, but why the hell are you fucking here?”

Loud Flirt’s face softened a bit, and he offered a meager shrug.

The room had become uncomfortably silent.

Touka realized how heavy the atmosphere was. Nishiki had lowered his head, not really looking at her, and Koma and Irimi had also averted their eyes sharply. Yomo jerked his face sharply away so he didn’t have to look her in the eye. Only the Loud Flirt held her gaze, and even then his eyes had become muddy and distant.

“Did something happen…?” She wanted to take a step back and flee. Yomo’s presence had set off alarms in her head. Yomo didn’t like to show up. She didn’t know why. Maybe it cramped his loner style.

Beside her, Yoshimura lowered his head. It was a sign of reverence. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Mrs. Fueguchi…” he began in a low, throaty voice, “was… killed by the ghoul investigators.”

Touka’s entire body went rigid as though she’d been submerged in a bathtub full of ice. That writhing snake pit of anxiety that had built up inside her stomach seemed to explode, sending angry vipers to slither and snap, worming through her insides and attacking her vitals. She wanted to explode too.

“It seems… she was protecting Hinami.”

Touka couldn’t take it. She listened to her molars clench together, and her hands became fists at her sides.

She slammed her fist into the wall, listening to the resounding crash, reveling in the vibrations that danced through the bones of her arm and settled in pinpricks around her shoulder. She was already exploding. She was a fucking bomb that went off periodically. There was no real stopping it.

“Ryouko…” she exhaled shakily, her entire body hyped up on her rage like it was a fucking drug, one of those pricey mind-melting things that lowlife humans salivated over. Her head was hazy and her heart was palpitating. “Where’s Hinami?”

“She’s asleep inside.”

Touka couldn’t even feel relieved. She was disgusted.

“And her face?” she whispered. “Did they see it?”

Yomo was quiet. Yoshimura was quiet. They were all so fucking quiet.

Fuck, Touka thought in shock, fuck, fuck, fuck, fucking—!

“Unfortunately… it seems she wasn’t able to deal with it…”

“Fuck…” Touka exhaled, lowering herself into a crouch as the shock battled her rage, sapping her of her energy. “What the fuck…?” She closed her eyes, listening to her heart pounding inside her ears. “This is the worst…”

“For now I have decided to shelter Hinami at Anteiku…” Yoshimura sounded sad, but calm. She sorely envied his composure. “When the time is right, I am considering sending her to the twenty fourth ward…”

Her entire body went rigid, shock pulsing through her like lightning before dissipating in favor of her every winning rage.

“Is that a joke, manager?” she shrieked, springing to her feet and shooting him the nastiest fucking glare. “There’s no way Hinami can live alone in that shithole! We should just kill the doves!”

“Touka.”

Her eyes flashed to the Flirt’s face. She’d forgotten he was even there.

It occurred to her that she’d just really, really, really fucked up.

In her shock, in her fear, in her utter rage, she found herself approaching him. He was human. She could smell it on him, the distinctness of something meant to be prey. A human boy couldn’t be here. He couldn’t know that they were ghouls.

He had to die.

“Touka, no!” Koma gasped. She knew her eyes had turned black, and she could feel her kagune itching be released. Suddenly she was grabbed by the arm. She shot a fierce glower up at Yomo, her nostrils flaring in disgust.

“Hey.” The boy was calling out to her in a soft voice, and her reddened eyes slid toward him, flashing beneath her heavily veined lids. “I know you want to kill me, but I would really advise against it.”

“Who the fuck are you?” she snarled.

“Nagachika Hide,” he reminded her gently. “I’m a very human friend of Kaneki Ken. I hope you remember him?”

She grimaced. “That asshole?” she muttered, her shoulders squaring. Yeah, she remembered that guy. He’d refused to fight her, and he’d been such an entitled shithead. She wanted to send his scrawny ass back to hell. Then she realized. “That asshole is a dove!” She looked up at Yomo with wide eyes. “Don’t tell me… don’t tell me he’s the one who—!”

“You’re jumping to some pretty harsh conclusions,” Hide cooed.

“You,” she snapped at him, pointing at him and sneering. “You shut the fuck up!”

“Touka,” Yoshimura said softly. “Kaneki has been captured by the ghoul investigators.”

“What?” She yanked her arm away from Yomo, whirling to face Yoshimura. “Excuse me? How can he be captured by the doves when he is a dove?”

“I saw a good portion of it,” Koma admitted, bowing his head. “I… I wish I could have done more for Kaneki and Ryouko, but honestly, I didn’t expect those doves to hurt one of their own.”

Hurt…?

The immensity of the guilt that spread through her suddenly could not be quelled. It was so strong that it suffocated the flames of her fury. Her kakugan dissipated, and her kagune no longer stirred beneath her skin, and she felt herself sinking into the shock of it all.

“That guy…” she said distantly, “was hurt…?”

Hide was watching her dully. His arms hung limply over the back of the couch, and he lowered his chin against it.

“After Hide brought Hinami back to Anteiku,” Koma said cautiously, his eyes lowered at his hands, “he asked me to make sure Kaneki was okay, because he’d said that he was going to do something stupid. By the time I got there, I could only really hide in an alley and watch Kaneki try and defend Mrs. Fueguchi from the doves.”

“Well he obviously didn’t try hard enough,” Touka whispered bitterly.

“Kaneki was shot with an RC suppressant,” Hide told her in a bored tone. “You might not know what that is, so let me explain. RC suppressants make it temporarily impossible for ghouls to manifest their kagune or heal from the damage done to them. From what Koma told me, I suspect the bullet contained not only an RC suppressant, but some kind of heavy duty sedative, because immediately Kaneki was pretty much incapacitated.”

Touka swallowed hard. The guilt wouldn’t go away. She was shocked, and she was scared, and most of all she was angry at herself for being so fucking judgmental.

“How do you know shit like that…?” she asked, suspicion dripping into her voice.

Hide watched her, his eyes heavily lidded, and she watched him hide a smile into the leather back of the couch. “I did my research,” he replied, sounding painfully earnest. Yet, for some reason, she didn’t believe him.

“I don’t believe this…” Touka clapped her hand over her forehead, gritting her teeth in frustration.

“Neither do I,” Hide said brightly. He lifted his head, and he shrugged. “I can’t really believe Kaneki’s this stupid. Because now he’s in jail, right?” Hide laughed. It was a bitter sound. “And one of the investigators who works with Kaneki came ringing me up, telling me that I had to convince Kaneki to stop defending ghouls or else he’d die.”

“You didn’t tell us that, Nagachika,” Nishiki said sharply.

“It didn’t seem important, Nishio,” Hide said faintly, glancing at the asshole innocently. “I can’t convince Kaneki to do anything, so there was no point.”

“Would you try to convince him, though?” Irimi asked coolly.

Hide glanced back at her. His eyebrows had raised significantly. “Miss Irimi, Kaneki is my best friend. And I don’t want him to hate me. So no. I wouldn’t try, even if it meant I was saving his life.” Hide sighed, rubbing the back of his neck and standing up. “Okay, I know this is weird for you guys. You’re not used to trusting humans, right? But I won’t sell any of you out, and I’m going to stick around here, because Kaneki told me to take care of Hinami, and at this point it’s all I can do to help him, I think.”

“Kaneki doesn’t even know Hinami,” Touka hissed. “He doesn’t know any of us! Why?” She glared at Hide, feeling so disgusted with herself that she could vomit. “Why does he care?”

“I don’t know, Touka,” Hide told her gently. “He just does.”

“That’s bullshit!”

“I don’t really know him,” Koma said, leaning back in his seat, “but I know for sure that I’d trust that guy. You didn’t see him, Touka. He was ready to die to save Ryouko. He gave her a chance to run, and she didn’t. Don’t blame him for this.”

She exhaled, squeezing her eyes shut and wishing she could clock this stupid boy in the face so she’d stop feeling guilty about what had happened. It wasn’t fair. If she’d been here… if she’d gone to see what had happened instead of Koma, maybe Ryouko would still alive, and maybe Kaneki would still be here. And maybe he could be working at Anteiku, since he clearly cared about the place so fucking much.

“You’re right,” Touka muttered through gritted teeth. “I shouldn’t blame Kaneki. It’s the fucking doves’ fault!”

No one said anything. Hide merely closed his eyes, Yomo was watching her with his usual unreadable face, and Nishiki nodded. That annoyed her the most, honestly.

“We should kill them all,” she declared.

Hide laughed. She looked at him sharply, a growl starting at the back of her throat. He threw his hands up defensively.

“Ah, sorry!” he smiled sheepishly. “It’s just, you really aren’t what I expected!”

“What do you mean?” she snapped. “You’re shocked that I’m not the shy, jittery idiot I pretend to be downstairs so you keep giving Anteiku money?”

“No, I knew that was an act.” Hide’s expression was soft, and Touka found herself increasingly put off by this boy. He was almost frightening charismatic. She hated that. “I’m just surprised. You’re really quite bloodthirsty, aren’t you, Touka?”

Her eyes narrowed at him, and her nails dug into her palms, tight enough to draw blood at any given moment.

“I could literally eat you for fucking breakfast, you piece of shit,” Touka spat at him. “Stop patronizing me!”

“Wow…” Hide’s eyes widened. And then he beamed at her, leaning forward excitedly. “Touka, you really are scary! If you yelled at Kaneki like that he’d probably piss his pants, ha ha!”

“I’m fucking out of here,” Touka growled, turning away and marching past Yoshimura.

As she stalked down the hall, she heard Hide’s bright, obnoxiously loud voice.

“I think she handled that really well!”

She really hated this guy.

“You look tired,” Kaneki remarked.

Amon hadn’t spoken for the duration of his time sitting across from Kaneki. It had been nearly ten minutes of silence, which hadn’t really bothered Kaneki much because he’d intended on giving Amon the silent treatment, but this was pretty worrying at best. Amon was acting strangely. His fire wasn’t gone, but it seemed like it had been redirected. He was furious, and he was determined, and he wasn’t really all there.

“Are you talking to me now?” Amon asked dully.

“Well,” Kaneki sighed, “you know, I’ve been locked in here for about a week… and to be honest, Amon, being stuck in isolation does things to your head. Talking to you is better than nothing, I guess.”

Amon nodded curtly. “That’s fair,” he said. “However, you’re still stuck in here indefinitely.”

“I figured.” Kaneki closed his eyes, and he shifted his chains thoughtfully. “I finished The Divine Comedy.”

“All of it?”

“Yeah.”

“Hm.” Amon really did sound distant. It was troubling, to say the least, and Kaneki wondered if he’d even answer if asked what was wrong. “I’ll bring you another book next time.”

“That’s not really necessary…” Kaneki felt guilty for the first book anyway. Even though he actually really did want another book to read, because now he felt his emptiness more than ever before, and it was making him jittery, making him skitter and jitter and choke. He could hear pincers clicking in his ears more often than not.

“I’ll bring you another one as soon as I can.” Amon wasn’t looking at him. He was looking over a case file.

Kaneki leaned forward curiously, his nose nearly brushing the dividing glass. “You guys busy without me?” he joked. It was in poor taste, he knew, because he’d done this to himself.

“There’s been a lot of ghoul activity in the twentieth ward,” Amon admitted, never looking up. “Since the Binge Eater is dead, courtesy of your unfortunate date, that’s definitely one dangerous ghoul off the list. But more and more ghouls are showing up. First there was that college student who attacked you, Nishio Nishiki. He’s probably long gone, judging by how thoroughly he’d infiltrated human society. He’s clearly very intelligent. Then there was that mother ghoul you were defending for God knows whatever reason. Her daughter hasn’t been caught yet, unfortunately, and we haven’t uncovered any leads. Mado said to ask you, since you mentioned her to the mother ghoul.” Amon raised his eyes at this. “I told him even if you knew something, you’d never tell me.”

Kaneki almost smiled. He grimaced instead. “You’d be right,” he said.

“Uh huh.” Amon looked to be clinging to his composure by a thread. He’d rolled his eyes very subtly. “Anyway, there’s also the Gourmet.”

Fuck. Kaneki had twitched at that. Amon had noticed, raising his eyes and watching him suspiciously. Honestly. Fucking Tsukiyama.

“Do you know anything about him?” Amon asked calmly.

“Unfortunately,” Kaneki said in a cool voice, “I’m not actually the reigning supreme ghoul encyclopedia.”

“You flinched when I said Gourmet.”

“I did not?”

“Yeah you did.” Amon rested his hand on top of his files. “Listen. If you cooperate, they might let you go.”

“Why do you care so much if I rot in here or not?” Kaneki murmured.

“Because you don’t deserve this!” Amon’s voice raised, and that fire had returned full force. “Cochlea is a place where ghouls with valuable information are kept. It’s for the scum of the earth! Where ghouls suffer solitude in payment for their crimes!”

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Kaneki whispered.

“Exactly.” Amon exhaled sharply, his body relaxing a bit. “This isn’t justice. This is cruelty.”

“But only when it’s me, right?” Kaneki said flatly. “Only when it’s a former human.”

“You’re still human.”

Kaneki couldn’t deny that, he supposed. So he smiled, and he leaned back in his seat. “I’ve heard about Gourmet,” he admitted.

“Oh?” Amon’s eyes narrowed. “From who?”

“No offense, but you guys leak information to the public all the time.” He was trying to think of an explanation really fast. “Anyway, Hide said something about it. I wouldn’t bother asking him, though, he probably knows less than you do.”

“Ah. Right. Nagachika.” Amon nodded, and Kaneki was relieved. “That makes sense. He clearly enjoys research.”

“How do you know that?”

Amon glanced at him. He gave a meager smile. “He asked me if I was named after Amon Ra, Amon of Judah, or Ammon the demon.”

“Oh. Yeah, sometimes he just knows weird stuff like that…”

“Has he come to visit you?” Amon was trying to sound casual, but Kaneki could hear an odd strain in his voice.

“No.” Kaneki didn’t feel bitter. He’d actually just assumed that Hide wouldn’t even be allowed in to see him. “It’s not really surprising.”

Amon didn’t say anything else. He merely looked back at his ghoul files, and he sighed. “Other than the Gourmet,” he continued on, “there’s the Rabbit.”

Kaneki was careful not to give any clear reaction to that. Even though he was inwardly panicking.

Damn it, Touka.

“The Rabbit?” he asked in his most curious little voice.

“An ukaku type ghoul with a rabbit mask attacked two investigators recently,” Amon said flatly. “They succeeded in killing Kusaba Ippei.”

“Kusaba…” Kaneki remembered him. He’d been there when Ryouko had been killed. Oh, he remembered all of it now. This was when Touka had come to work with the bleeding arm.

If you died, Touka, I would probably be… sad.

He closed his eyes. That had been a different life. He wasn’t there to tell her such things now. Because it was different now anyway. He wouldn’t just be sad if Touka died. He’d be utterly shattered.

“We suspect they're connected to the mother and daughter ghouls.” Amon tapped his finger against the file, watching Kaneki with a sharp gaze. “If you have any information regarding any of them, you should tell me. Then you’ll be free.”

“That sucks.” Kaneki made a whining sound, leaning back in his seat and jingling his chains. “I can’t tell you anything if I don’t know anything, Amon.”

“I see.” Amon nodded. This time, Kaneki couldn’t really tell what he was thinking. “Fine, then. But, Kaneki, I really would be more concerned if I were you.”

“About the Rabbit ghoul?”

“No,” Amon said quietly, staring into Kaneki’s eyes. “About what the CCG plans on doing with you.”

“I’m still an important resource to them, right?” Kaneki smiled reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Amon. I’m not going to die just yet.”

“But what happens when you’re not longer important?” Amon shook his head. “No. You need to reconcile with the CCG as soon as possible, Kaneki.”

“That doesn’t sound easy.”

“It might be,” Amon sighed, “if you just would listen to me.”

Kaneki didn’t respond.

Because the more he thought about it, the more he realized that Amon was probably right about something. His pride was what was keeping him locked in Cochlea.

Even after Amon left, that fact haunted him. Because Touka had made her presence known to the CCG, and that meant… that meant that Mado would find her. Somehow. Some way. And Amon would be with him.

And if Amon was with him, then Touka did not stand a chance.

Chapter Text

He'd tied together at some point that the only way Touka would face off against Mado was if she planted that fake evidence at the CCG. Kaneki had been there the first time, but his presence had not been crucial to the event. It was likely Touka would go to the CCG by herself to buy Hinami time. Either way, Kaneki's own time was already running out.

And at this point, he was beginning to panic.

He regretted it. Not listening to Amon when he'd had the chance. He couldn't get a hold of any guards to announce that he wanted to negotiate terms and get the fuck out of here. The only time he was ever graced with human presence was when he was too drugged to think cohesively or use his tongue to communicate. So all in all, he was trapped.

His life was just waiting for Amon to show up again so Kaneki could admit he was wrong. It had only taken a day of pondering to make Kaneki crack. The horror of Touka being stuck fighting both Amon and Mado while protecting Hinami was just too heavy. Kaneki would swallow his pride to prevent it from happening.

Finally Kaneki was dragged out of his cell again, shackled and plopped in that uncomfortable plastic chair and forced to stare through the dividing glass. He'd been under the assumption that Amon had come again, which he'd mentally prepared himself for, but he'd been wrong.

"Mr. Shinohara…" Kaneki's hands clenched in his lap, wringing anxiously as the man watched him with a mix of disappointment and pity.

"Hello, Kaneki." Shinohara folded his hands on the shelf before him, straightening up. "You look surprised."

"I wasn't expecting you," Kaneki admitted, panic flooding him. If Shinohara was here, what did that mean? Were Amon and Mado busy with…?

"Considering the twentieth ward's increasing spike in activity, Amon couldn't make it here." Shinohara grimaced. "I doubt Mado has ever visited. Is that a correct assumption?"

This was all so bizarre. Even as Kaneki nodded, he felt like he was in a dream.

"Well," Shinohara continued with a shrug, "nothing to worry about. The twentieth ward is pretty short on field investigators, so Amon and Mado are doing double the work they'd do at headquarters."

"I see…" Kaneki sunk into his seat, anxiety only worsening as it whittled him away. He had to hurry. He had to swallow his pride and make a move. "Mr. Shinohara… are you disappointed in me for trying to save a ghoul?"

Shinohara watched him in an odd way, similar to how Amon had kept glancing at him in his past visits. There was no questioning it, no matter how Shinohara answered. He was clearly disappointed.

"I don't know you very well, Kaneki," Shinohara said thoughtfully, his expression softening. "And of course you know me even less. But I can tell that you're an idealist, so I guess it was only a matter of time before this happened."

Kaneki wasn't given any relief because of Shinohara's kind words. It only made him more anxious, really. Because he still had to convince Shinohara to let him out of this place. He had to fix this. He had to do something right!

"Is there any way I can convince you to let me out of here?" he asked, feeling his distanced emotions only pushing back more and more.

"I would if I could, Kaneki," Shinohara sighed, averting his gaze sharply. "I'm sorry, but you've been deemed a legitimate threat. I'm not sure if the CCG will ever forgive you for what you did."

"I didn't hurt anyone, though!" Kaneki found himself jumping to his feet. That didn't do enough to even surprise Shinohara, who sat placidly behind the glass. "I didn't even attack Mado! I just was trying to…"

"Protect a ghoul." Shinohara closed his eyes. "Kaneki, you really need to understand that as a ghoul investigator and a ghoul yourself, defending another ghoul is enough to warrant this kind of punishment. You should have realized that."

"I knew the risk I was taking," Kaneki said heatedly, his wrists snapping against the chain of his shackles. "But I thought you were going to kill me! If I had known this would be my punishment, maybe I wouldn't have done it!"

"That's a lie," Shinohara said calmly.

"Well, who cares?" Kaneki clenched his fists, and he glowered at his feet. "Mr. Shinohara, what can I say to fix this?"

"It's not that simple."

"It has to be!" Kaneki was growing frantic. His panic was getting the better of him, and he looked desperately down at the man, lurching closer to the glass and watching him with a helpless gaze. "I'm sorry. I messed up, and I know it. What can I do to fix this?"

Shinohara watched him sadly. He exhaled, rubbing his eyes tiredly, and he gestured at Kaneki offhandedly. "Sit down, Kaneki. You're getting way too worked up. Take a deep breath, okay?"

He found his face burning in embarrassment, his mouth falling open as he tried to think of an excuse for his overwhelming displays of emotion. But there were no excuses. How could there be? So he sat back down, his head bowed in shame, and he realized that he might have truly fucked himself over for good.

"From what I understand, you're being kept here for observational purposes." Shinohara gave a little grimace, and he rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. "Whatever the hell that means. Anyway, they won't kill you. I've heard rumors that you're involved in some huge project authorized by the highest rung."

"Project?" Kaneki repeated flatly. "Excuse me?"

Shinohara looked at him sharply, and he leaned back. "Oh, damn," he said. "Are you not even aware of it?" His eyes widened considerably. "What the hell…?"

"What project?" Kaneki asked quickly, resting his hands on the shelf and leaning forward desperately. "Mr. Shinohara, are they doing something to me?"

"No one knows the details, Kaneki, it's just a rumor." Shinohara winced. "I probably shouldn't have even said anything. I don't want to make you any more worried than you are already. The point is, the CCG hasn't just abandoned you."

"And performing experiments on me is any better?" Kaneki muttered, his bitterness clear as he sunk into his seat.

"Now you're just jumping to conclusions," Shinohara said in a soft, distant tone of remorse. He seemed to feel guilty. Perhaps for letting his tongue slip, and information to leak out. Perhaps because he really was a good guy, and he really did care about Kaneki. It didn't matter at this point.

"I'm scared," Kaneki admitted. "Is that wrong?"

"It's only natural."

"So why did it end up like this?" Kaneki rubbed his face in his bound hands, his shoulders rolling. "I don't think it's fair."

"I told you your life was going to be difficult now, Kaneki," Shinohara said quietly.

Kaneki shot him a weary glare. The man only watched him, his hands folded before him and his head bowed.

"Difficult…" Kaneki's hands clenched in his lap. "I don't think that begins to cut it, Mr. Shinohara."

"I'll try my best to get you out of here," Shinohara said, shaking his head. "But I can't promise anything. You're being held accountable for your actions, and no one can stop that no matter their rank." Shinohara seemed to pause to think about that for a bit. "Except maybe the Washuus. So unless you happen to have some secret connection with them…"

"Wash-who?" Kaneki laughed weakly.

"Exactly."

When Shinohara left, Kaneki only felt more despair encroaching on the barest slivers of hope he still grasped. Amon had warned him that he was going to rot in Cochlea because of his goddamn pride. And now Kaneki was panicking, because what if he was right? What if it was already too late to change anything, and he'd doomed himself and everyone else?

He didn't want to die in here.

Being a prisoner was so mentally trying. He was getting himself so worked up that he felt physically ill, perpetually stuck in a state of whirring nausea. This was not unusual. Kaneki often had anxiety attacks of a similar vein, crippling waves of panic washing over him and causing him to lose the ability to differentiate physical and mental discomfort. It all blurred together in a wicked cocktail of what ifs and what must bes.

He didn't want to die.

He kept forgetting.

Wasn't he already dead?

What if none of this was real?

What if this was all some twisted version of hell?

What can I do, he thought wildly, time passing like a snail inching its way across a lone rock stranded amidst a toiling ocean, what can I do? What can I do to repent? How can I ascend from hell to purgatory?

He was losing his mind.

What was left of it, anyway.

The dreams were getting worse, too.

More vivid.

More real.

He checked his mouth every time he woke, swabbing the inside of his cheeks with his index finger for blood. He was overwhelmed by the thoughts of what had been, what will be, and he feared for the future as he feared the future's past. The fear was only gaining more traction. It fed on his inability to hold on to reality.

Visions swam in his head of a smiling face, the air tasting of blood and rot, and the smile didn't go away even as the tastes became ungodly sweet and made him shudder from disgust and pleasure. He didn't know if this was real or not and it drove him mad, mad, mad with guilt and horror and self-loathing. Why? Why did this happen? Why did it have to happen? Would it happen? Had it even happened?

Who could say?

Rize? Yamori? Kaneki?

He should enjoy it. Right? Just enjoy it, enjoy the way the blood poured down his throat, hot and so temptingly savory, saccharine in all the right ways, and it just made her shiver with anticipation, because after all it was only some dumb little boy who should've known better, right? Anyway, she— they— he— should have made a better meal out of what had been, what might've been.

Yes. He should have made it last. He should have done more than just taste. He should have given his fingers a good cracking and broken the fool's legs. He could have asked with cold ease, "What did your efforts amount to, anyway?" That was so simple. Zero. Zero, zero, zero! And once the taunting settled, that was when the real torture began. Eat the eyes first so the brat could only hear the horror, the chilly words, the whispered insults, the unrelenting laughter, the gnashing of teeth and the tearing of flesh and screams rattling in the air.

And whose screams were they, anyway?

Who was he, anyway?

What did he feel, anyway?

What did his efforts amount to, anyway?

Anyway… his next visitor caught him by surprise.

He was probably a little too unhinged for this one, but he couldn't exactly do anything about it. He felt a mixture of delight and utter panic when he stepped into the usual interrogation room and glanced at the boy sitting behind the dividing glass.

"Hide!" Kaneki nearly stepped back in alarm. In his excitement, he also felt the urge to rush forward, to grin and laugh and maybe even cry. But his thoughts were all behind him, and there were too many personalities cramping the space that was his brain.

"'Sup, dude." Hide was smiling lazily, his elbows resting on the supporting shelf and his fingers twiddling at the foam of his headphones. "You look like hell."

"I feel like hell," he admitted, taking a tentative step forward. He halted, the chains of his cuffs rattling from the abrupt stop. "How did you get the clearance to visit me?"

"I was let in," Hide said vacantly, resting his cheek upon his fist. "No one asked me any questions."

That's a little strange, Kaneki thought. He didn't want to question his good luck, though.

"It's good to see you," he said, nearing the dividing glass. Hide smiled, and he closed his eyes.

"I wish I could say the same, but…" He offered a shrug. "I'm trying that whole confrontation thing. Frankly, I'm a little pissed."

"You understand why I did what I did, right?"

"Sure." Hide opened his eyes, and Kaneki saw how genuine he looked. He smiled, and there was still light in his gaze. Somehow. "I'm not surprised, or anything, just pissed off. I just can't shake this thought, that maybe you want to die or something."

Kaneki couldn't even deny that. He tried to smile, but he knew Hide had seen right through him. There was no avoiding it.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"It's fine, bro." Hide laughed easily. "Like I said, I'm not surprised. So how's Cochlea treating you?"

"Bad."

Hide straightened up. He seemed to suddenly be on the defensive. "Are they doing anything to you?" he asked hesitantly.

"I don't know." He was being honest. He couldn't say what went on at night when the anesthesia kicked in. "Maybe they are, or maybe I'm just going completely insane. I don't know, Hide."

"Shit…" Hide laughed. He gave a small, nervous chuckle, his eyes darting away from Kaneki's face. "That's not good."

"I'm losing hope that I'll ever get out of here," Kaneki sighed.

Hide glanced at him sharply. "Don't say that…" he murmured.

"It's the truth." Kaneki watched him. His eyes darted to the camera in the corner. Hide followed his gaze, turning around to glance up at it. Kaneki didn't have the opportunity to do anything in Cochlea, but Hide… Hide could be his chance. Now how to actually tell him…

"That camera isn't manned," Hide piped up. Kaneki looked at him bemusedly. Hide gave a sheepish little smile, scratching the back of his head. "All the guards are on the floor right now. Listen, tell me what you have to now. Don't worry about the camera."

"But…" Kaneki glanced at it worriedly.

"I'll take care of it," Hide swore. He leaned forward, his eyes bright. "Just tell me."

Kaneki was jittery with nerves, his eyes widening as he tried to formulate the words. He was scared. How could Hide get away with this? How could anything work out from here on out? If Kaneki was caught giving out this information, he could kiss freedom goodbye for sure.

"Kaneki, I'm serious." Hide watched him, his own eyes going wide. "I need you to trust me, okay? No one is going to hear what you tell me."

Trust. That was key, wasn't it? Kaneki hadn't trusted anyone to help him before, when he'd been Centipede. Not even Banjou and Hinami could be trusted in full. Yeah, he didn't even want to think about Tsukiyama, he wouldn't trust that guy with a pet rock. He'd probably throw it in a river under the impression that stone skipping was an impressive skill. So it'd been awhile since he'd really trusted anyone with something this important.

He took a deep breath.

"Touka and Hinami are in danger," he said, his voice quiet. Hide stared at him. He nodded curtly, a signal for Kaneki to continue. "Mado and Amon are planning on luring Hinami out with one of her mother's limbs—"

"What?" Hide's face twisted in disgust. "What the fuck? That's sick! What kind of cruel bastard does that to a child?"

"The kind that doesn't believe she's a real child." Kaneki glanced nervously at the camera. "The CCG is basically just brimming with people who don't consider ghouls to be people. They're just monstrous vermin to investigators. So Mado feels pretty much guiltless for tormenting a kid if the kid's a ghoul."

Hide exhaled sharply. "Okay," he said calmly. "So what do you want me to do?"

"I don't know when it's going to happen," Kaneki said, wringing his hands. "Because of that, I can't give you any direct details. But if Hinami goes missing, you need to go to the river by Kasahara elementary school. You won't be able to stop Touka… honestly, don't even let Touka know you're there, she might hurt you. What you need to do is keep Amon from the river."

"Amon." Hide's eyes narrowed. "Okay, I was following, but now I'm not. Shouldn't I try and keep both of them away?"

"You'll never convince Mado of anything," Kaneki sighed. "His instincts are way too good. I know it's risky, but one investigator is better than two, and at least with Amon distracted Touka and Hinami have a chance to escape."

"Okay…" Hide looked down at his lap. There was a steady silence that hung like a noose around Kaneki's neck, threatening to choke the life out of him. He had difficulty drawing breaths.

"I'm sorry," he blurted, pressing both hands to the dividing glass, leaning forward desperately. "I'm so sorry for throwing this on you, Hide. It's a lot of pressure, I know, but-"

"Nah, don't worry, buddy." Hide winked, and he grinned. "I've got this."

Kaneki was at a loss for words. "But…"

"I told you to trust me, didn't I?" Hide huffed. "Yeesh! Can you chill? I said I've got this, and I meant it. Just sit tight. I'll save Hina and Touka, and then you'll be out of here in no time!"

"That's way too much optimism!" Kaneki blurted, his lips quirking into a sad smile.

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Hide snorted, and he tipped his chair back precariously. "I'm the finest optimist in the whole of Tokyo. Nothing can rain on my parade!"

"Unbelievable…" Kaneki slouched in his seat, his eyes wide and his mouth parted in awe.

"That's right, that's right, soak it in." Hide waved his hands in a swift cylindrical motion, like a conductor motioning for an instrument to begin playing. "This is what your pessimism has made me. I'm completely Kaneki proof! Your teen angst is super ineffective!"

"Um, okay," Kaneki said flatly. "It's not teen angst, asshole."

"It's kinda teen angst?"

"No? It's really not?" Kaneki flushed, and he scowled. "Stop twisting things!"

"Chill," Hide drawled, his chair clapping back onto the ground. "I'm just fucking with you. Anyway, you'll be out of here soon, so hold tight, kay?"

"Hide…" Kaneki sighed. He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, and he shook his head. "Listen, I… I don't know when I'll be getting out. If ever."

Hide sighed. "Kaneki…" He looked at him sharply. "You will get out of here."

"You can't know that for sure."

"Don't you trust me?" Hide asked in a strangely demanding voice. His eyebrows furrowed, and his eyes flashed.

"Well… yes, but—"

"Then do me a favor," he said, smiling thinly. "Stop being such a pessimist. You're gonna get frown lines. You'll go prematurely gray. Just do us both a favor and quit stressing out so much. I can take things from here, so relax for a few days." He stood up, bumping his fist against the glass. "I'm gonna take care of this for you. And when you get out of here, you're gonna stop screwing around and get the CCG to see ghouls as useful assets, and not irredeemable monsters made to paint targets onto."

Kaneki could only sit, stunned into silence. He couldn't smile, or nod, or even look away from Hide as he gave a mock salute and turned away.

"Catch you later, then," Hide chirped. He paused by the door, and he turned around. "I forgot. The reason I came here is because Amon thought that maybe I could convince you to stop defending ghouls."

"That sure worked out," Kaneki said dryly.

"I never said I intended on doing it," Hide laughed. "Anyway, I'll see you soon."

"Okay…" Kaneki watched Hide leave, and he had to wonder.

Just what the fuck was Hide even thinking?

Exhaustion had settled in on her as she leaned on Nishiki for support. He was all but dragging her toward the end of their trek back home, her feet tangling together as the pain in her side steadily increased. She could deal with the pain. It'd heal. She just kept telling herself that, like she could keep moving forward, because if she told herself that she could do it, then it had to be true, right?

"Oh how the tables have turned," Nishiki teased her as they came around the back of Anteiku. She glared at him fiercely. "A few weeks ago I was the one bleeding profusely, desperate for help. Should I take a picture? I want to remember the day you admitted to needing a hand."

"Shut the fuck up," Touka snapped, shoving him away and stumbling back, a shock of agony shuddering through her abdomen. The pain was mostly in her side, but it had spread rapidly to envelope the nerves running above the muscle lacing her ribs. She couldn't help but buckle, her arm caving in to press against the open wound, pain causing her knees to wobble and her teeth to grit. She would not cry. She would not cry. Not in front of Hinami.

Hinami wasn't even looking at her.

Her face was buried in Yomo's shoulder. Her arms were tight around his neck. Touka took a deep breath. It had been worth it. She couldn't feel guilty now.

She was a killer.

This was what killers did.

Lock up all their remorse inside and swallow the key. Compartmentalize. There was no guilt for the monstrous.

"Come on." Nishiki glanced back at her, his eyes dull beneath his glasses. In the dimly lit alley, his bleached white hair looked silvery. He never said anything, but she could tell that the transition back into obscurity was tough on him. Still, it didn't give him an excuse to be even more of an ass than he already was. "Yo. Touka. Gimme your arm, stupid."

"I can walk by myself, shitty Nishiki," she sneered, elbowing past him and following Yomo into the back door. She tightened her arm around her side, breathing in deeply and feeling sweat prickle the back of her neck. She was feeling a little cold.

She forced herself to move forward in spite of the searing pain, her feet scraping across the wood floor, blood pooling into her hand. The light was on in the shop. She jerked to a stop, a wave of wooziness falling upon her. She crashed into the counter for support, her breath labored as she stared at the boy sitting next to the shaded window.

"Hide…?" Hinami lifted her head curiously, rubbing her eyes as she peered down at him. Touka was shaking. She didn't know if it was from rage, or if it was from the unbearable pain of walking for so long with such a grievous wound. She could only clench her side and stare at the smiling boy with wide eyes. Fuck. What the fuck? What had she fucking done to deserve this bullshit? "Hide… Hide's bleeding…?"

Touka looked at Hinami sharply. Her eyes were closed, and her head was tilted back toward the ceiling, her matted brown hair falling limply into the air away from her face. Her nostrils flared as she inhaled sharply.

"Why is Hide bleeding?" she asked in a tremulous voice. Her eyes snapped open, and she twisted to look at Touka wildly. "Sis, we have to help him!"

"I'm fine, Hina," Hide gasped, laughing sheepishly and waving his hands wildly. "Honest! It looks like Touka is the one who needs help."

"Yeah, I need some fucking help," Touka snapped. "Nishiki! Help me rip this guy's trachea out!"

"Bitch, chill." Nishiki swatted the back of her head. "Nagachika's cool, remember? God, you're such a pain."

Touka growled, her face burning with heat in spite of the overwhelming chill that had enveloped her body. When Yomo moved aside to set Hinami down on a chair, she noticed that Hide's leg was being elevated, a reddened bandage wrapped around his calf. She found herself backtracking in guilt, but she couldn't bring herself to apologize, so she simply glowered.

"What the hell even happened to you?"

Hide smiled big, though Touka knew enough about pain to sense the strain there, and he averted his gaze. "Well," he said, rubbing the back of his neck, "it's actually a funny story…!"

Touka watched him expectantly. She nearly leapt out of her skin as a voice rumbled from behind her.

"You might as well enlighten us while Touka's wounds are tended to, Nagachika," Yoshimura said, placing a hand gingerly on Touka's shoulder. She relaxed, and she glanced up at him weakly. Without any much of a choice, she leaned against him and allowed him to lead her to a chair.

"Uh…" Hide whistled lowly. "Wow. Where do I begin? I guess I should start with Kaneki."

Hinami looked up with her swollen red eyes, her lips parting. "Kaneki," she repeated distantly. "He saved me. Hide!" Hinami slipped into the chair beside Hide, leaning very close to him. Touka's jaw clenched. Hide-onii-chan. What the fuck was that about? "Is Kaneki okay? Is he still a prisoner? Can't we help him?"

"I'm working on it, Hina, I swear," Hide gasped, waving his hands furiously in front of her face. His voice went up an octave when he said her name. Hina-chan. This was all so… annoying. "Now that this is over with, it might be easier to get him out. I'm kinda putting my stock in a gamble, but I think it'll be fine."

"What do you plan on doing?" Nishiki asked with a snort. "You gonna break him out? You? Measly human, Nagachika Hideyoshi?"

"It'd take a whole lot of manpower to break into Cochlea, let alone break a prisoner out." Hide looked uncharacteristically serious, his mouth dropping into his folded hands. "Frankly, I didn't even consider it because this place just isn't that strong." He paused, and he glanced around at them, barking a hearty laugh. "Ah! No offense!"

"Offense taken, jackass," Touka told him coldly.

"Please be a little more considerate toward Nagachika, Touka," Yoshimura said as he sat down beside her setting a roll of gauze aside and unbuttoning his sleeves. "After all, he may have just saved your life."

"Excuse me?" she hissed, her arms pressing hard into her side. "This scrawny little shit? What the hell are you saying, boss?"

Yoshimura rolled up his sleeves, and Touka scowled at him. Then, with a huff, she shrugged off her bloodied sweater and grimaced at the sight of the sticky burgundy stain that had formed just above her hip. Gross.

"I didn't fight anyone," Hide piped up. Touka glared at him. He merely ignored it. "Like I was saying, this is about Kaneki. I went to visit him, and he told me about Mado's plan to trap Hina." He shrugged.

"How would he know something like that?" Yomo asked. Touka had almost forgotten he was there. She half unbuttoned her shirt up to her lower chest, peeling back the stained fabric from the gaping, tattered flesh wound, and she hissed.

"Hell if I know," Hide scoffed, leaning back in his seat. "I don't ask Kaneki too many questions, okay? It makes him close up, and frankly I'm not too keen on making him stop talking to me."

"It's not like any of us know actually him." If she sounded bitter, it was simply because she was. She was super bitter. Like, who the fuck did this kid think he was? Both of these kids? These assholes just wouldn't leave Anteiku alone. What was up with that?

"I know he kinda has been keeping his distance," Hide said, "but he honestly loves this place. I don't know why, but he's really determined to protect it, so cut him some slack. He just cares too much, Touka."

"How annoying," she muttered as she tied the lower half of her ruined shirt off behind her back, blood dripping against the dip of her spine. She appreciated that neither Nishiki nor Hide were taking advantage of this sight to make some gross joke at her expense. They were lucky. She would have murdered them.

"Kaneki seems like a good person," Hinami said quietly. She bowed her head, her thin shoulders trembling. "Hide… if Kaneki is a dove… and he's such a good person… then why are the other doves so bad?"

Hide stared down at her. Touka watched him, noting how all joy and humor had vanished from his face. He was looking at Hinami with genuine uncertainty, his mind clearly working to formulate a reply that would be suitable for Hinami's currently delicate emotional state. Yoshimura dabbed at Touka's wound, and she hissed, shrinking back.

"It's not so much that doves are bad," Hide said cautiously. Touka threw him another dirty look, which he promptly ignored. "See, doves… ghoul investigators, they… they are practically programmed to think of ghouls as just an infestation of deadly vermin. They're prejudiced. Ignorant. They lash out at what scares them, at what they can't explain, and refuse to accept that their preconceived notions might be wrong." Hide lowered his eyes toward his lap. "They've always been like that."

"Holy shit, will you get to the point already?" Touka was gritting her teeth. Less because of Hide and more because of the pain she was in. It'd heal soon enough, but for right now it hurt like a fucking bitch, and she just wanted to lie down and sleep.

"I knew about the trap, but when I tried to warn you, Yoshimura told me Hinami had already gone missing." Hide shook his head in disbelief. "I was cutting it real close, right?"

"So…?" Touka glanced at Hide's injured leg as she raised her arm, allowing Yoshimura to wrap the gauze around the bandage he'd applied. She looked closer, tipping her chin down and attempting not to move her body. Her eyes narrowed. "Is that bloodstain the shape of bite marks?"

"Oh shit," Nishiki muttered. "Plot twist."

"No way!" Hinami gasped, grasping Hide's arm and looking up at him with tears swimming in her swollen, bloodshot eyes. "Who did it? No, no, no." Hinami shook her head fiercely. She straightened up in her chair, tears suddenly flowing freely down her face. "Nobody is going to hurt Hide. Big Sis and I won't let any other ghouls near him!"

"I'm doing what now, Hina?" Touka asked in a thin little voice.

"We're going to protect Big Brother Hide!" she declared in a tremulous voice. Touka couldn't even object. Hinami was shaking too badly, and it was clear that she was very serious. Hide looked half delighted by her declaration, but mostly he looked guilty. That was new. She'd never seen that shit eater look anything but self-congratulatory before.

"Okay, Hinami," Touka said gently. "We'll protect him."

"Um, actually," Hide said sheepishly, "this was self inflicted. But I really appreciate the sentiment!"

"How the hell did you bite your own leg like that, man?" Nishiki asked. He sounded weirdly impressed.

"I didn't." Hide winced, rubbing the back of his head. "Okay, so I used to hang out in the art room a lot back when I was in high school. I wasn't an artist or anything, but I did learn a few things."

"Are you telling me that's fake blood? Because it sure smells a whole lot like real blood." Touka hissed, holding the gauze wrapped around her lower abdomen close to her as Yoshimura taped the bandage into place. It was really uncomfortable but she'd be able to remove it in a few hours.

"No, I didn't have time to make realistic looking fake blood," Hide said with a sigh. "Nah, I just mean, I got pretty handy with an x-acto knife. Boom. Perfectly placed shallow bite marks."

"That's ridiculous," Touka told him sharply. "What the hell is wrong with you? First of all I don't know how that fooled anyone!"

"There was a lot of blood, so Amon wasn't really looking at the actual puncture wounds," Hide explained. "Which is pretty lucky, because I started to kinda lose it from the pain near the end, and my hand wasn't steady enough to keep in the lines I traced."

"Second of all," she snapped, jumping up in spite of the blazing pain. "You're insane! Why would you put yourself through that for a bunch of ghouls? You don't belong here! You have no reason to be here!"

"Do you want me to leave?" Hide asked. He looked at her, and his eyes were tired.

"That's not what I said!" She took a deep breath, brushing her sweaty hair out of her eye. "Damn it, you really are stupid. I don't care what you do, but you shouldn't have hurt yourself for our sake. It was our problem, not yours! We didn't ask for your help, so next time don't be offering up any of your fucking limbs just so you can play hero!"

"Touka is right." Yomo looked down at Hide, whose eyes had widened considerably. Even Touka was surprised. Yomo was agreeing with her about something she was clearly just ranting about for the sake of yelling. She was genuinely thankful toward Hide for what he'd done, but she was so pissed at him for hurting himself that it just negated the whole damn thing. "Hide, you are in danger so long as you choose to be around us. We can't subject you to that."

"I did this to myself," Hide objected.

"Why?" Yomo demanded.

Hide stared at him. "I…" He winced. "I didn't know how else to lure Amon away from the river."

"How did you tell him you got away from this made up ghoul?" Yomo asked in a dull voice.

"I said they got into a fight with another ghoul over me," Hide replied calmly. "Amon bought it, and he helped me get to higher ground. Once he did that, he waited with me while I called my emergency line, which… usually is Kaneki, but under these circumstances I chose Anteiku. No one picked up, so I tried a few more times, and by then Amon was getting antsy and he said he had to go. I couldn't really stop him, but I figured I'd wasted just enough time, hopefully. Which!" He flung out his hands at Touka and smiled big. "Tada! It worked. You're alive. You're totally welcome."

"Thank you, Hide," Hinami gasped.

"He didn't even do anything," Touka muttered, falling back into her chair. Pain danced up her side, and she clenched her fists.

"Hide," Yoshimura said suddenly, standing up. They all turned their attention to him, as subjects might fall mute upon the sight of their king. "What Yomo said is true. You face many dangers by choosing to be here, because you, unlike Kaneki, are purely human. But I do not wish to condemn you for that. In fact, if you are willing to put yourself at such extreme risk, I'd rather embrace it. As Hinami said, when it comes to protecting you, we might be the most qualified for the job." He smiled down at them warmly. And then his smile dampened. "That said, I am worried about Kaneki. He's been locked up quite a while, don't you think?"

"Kaneki's strong," Hide insisted. "He'll manage. And like I said, he'll be out soon."

"You sound so sure," Touka said coolly.

Hide only smiled at her in response.

After Hide's visit, Kaneki was even more anxious. If that was even fucking possible. He kept up his workout, feeling that he simply wasn't strong enough yet, and that kept his mind busy for a little while but it was never enough. He wasn't strong enough. This body was overwhelmingly weak, and the shit they were feeding him wouldn't do a thing to help him get stronger.

Should he cannibalize again?

That would require getting out of this goddamn cell. He was pretty sure he was constantly drugged up on RC suppressants anyway, so the consistent working out was really putting a strain on his muscles. He was so exhausted, but he was also just so fucking bored.

Hide didn't come visit him again.

Kaneki was beginning to panic.

What have I done, he thought wildly. He's probably dead. He probably got killed by some ghoul while trying to help me. Touka and Hinami are probably dead too. Oh god. Oh god, oh god, what have I done…?

It was going to kill him. The guilt. The anxiety. He'd done this. He'd ruined everything.

Why was everything wrong all his goddamn fault?

He didn't even know how to prepare himself for the defeat. His friends could be dead. Because he'd gone and fucked everything up. Amazing. Truly, just fucking amazing.

It'd been about a week since Hide had visited him. Kaneki didn't know what to do. He couldn't ask anyone anything, and he was still stuck, locked inside a tiny cell, feeling claustrophobic and isolated, his mind turning to mush as dreams clawed into him and peeled his muscle from his bones.

When would this torment end?

How did one keep sane when the days all blurred and the dreams were devouring the mind and the mind was incapable of differentiating reality and a nonexistent past?

There were other people inside his head whispering lies, and he couldn't puzzle out the truth. He just wasn't that smart.

He just wasn't that strong.

When his door slammed open, he'd been crouched in the corner of his cell, watching his hands and daydreaming up the details of a former life. He imagined looking down at his fingernails and finding them ugly, uneven, discolored, and revolting. Black and yellow swollen beneath the clear shell, blood congealed and sealed underneath.

He didn't look up when the door slammed. He only really began to care that he was being called upon when a familiar scent hit his nose.

"You're actually allowed in here," he murmured, dragging his thumb along the side of his index finger and then roughly applying pressure to the second joint until it cracked, "Amon?"

"Get up."

Kaneki didn't want to. He glanced upward, his head bowed, and his eyes meeting Amon's. The man looked very irritated. Exhausted and lost and maybe even disheveled. Kaneki saw that his eyes were red-rimmed. He smiled.

"Has my time finally come?" he asked, showing his teeth. He shifted his legs so one knee dropped against the floor while he left the other propped up. He offered out his bare wrists toward the giant man. "Let's get it over with."

"Cut the crap, Kaneki," Amon sighed, striding up to him and nudging the bare sole of Kaneki's foot with his shoe. "Get up. You're free, okay?"

A shudder ran through him, and his fake little smile of spite fell away. He stared up at Amon with wide eyes, and he lowered his hands, feeling nothing but coldness dripping through his chest and into the pit of his stomach.

"For real…?" he whispered, his eyes darting toward the door.

"Do I look like I'm kidding?" Amon was clearly not in the mood to fuck around. He wasn't going to respond to Kaneki with any sort of explanation, so it was probably best to give up trying. "Let's go. I don't want to hit rush hour."

Kaneki found himself rising to his feet uncertainly, following Amon out of the cell and feeling at a sudden loss the moment his feet passed the threshold. He was leaving that cell for good. Shouldn't he be feeling… happier?

No. That'd make too much sense.

He walked slowly, watching Amon's back as he listened to his bare feet pad against the cool linoleum floor. Cochlea was just was unbearably bright and white as the 20th Ward's branch headquarters. His eyes were stinging from the sight, and his heart was thudding hard from the sudden adrenaline rush. Freedom.

Should freedom feel more rewarding?

He just felt empty.

Guards were eying him suspiciously. He supposed it was a curious sight. A ghoul trailing calmly behind a Rank 1 investigator, his head high and his eyes sharp. He knew he was probably giving off bad vibes. He knew his own effect on people.

"Can I ask," Kaneki said, speeding up his stride so he was nearly beside Amon, "why now?"

"Does it matter?"

"You said I was going to rot in here," he said coolly. "Yeah. It kind of matters, Amon."

Amon shot him a glower, his dark eyes narrowing down at Kaneki's face. "I don't know," he replied in the same chilly tone.

Well. That got him nowhere.

"How can you not know?" Kaneki snapped.

"Calm down." Amon grabbed him by the upper arm and gripped it tightly, applying enough pressure to make Kaneki wince. "Right now, you're nothing but a human boy, no stronger than an average high school student, so don't start acting so commanding. You're still just a Rank 3 investigator, you know."

"Oh, am I still an investigator?" Kaneki's eyebrows raised quizzically. "I wasn't sure. Considering how rock solid my punishment seemed to be, I thought I was fired for sure."

"You may be freed from Cochlea," Amon told him staidly, "but don't think you have the luxury of escaping the CCG. They won't let you out of their grasp now that you've proven to be useful."

"Am I useful?" Kaneki asked thoughtfully. "Could've fooled me."

"Someone higher up most have gotten their hands on the report I filed about Nishio." Amon rolled his eyes. "The fact that you can control your kagune with such precision overruled your inefficiency in combat."

"So I'm back in the arsenal, huh?" Kaneki sighed. "Well, that's better than this place, at least."

"Your proficiency with your kagune is actually probably the only reason why you were let out," Amon admitted as they entered an elevator. The doors slid closed, and Kaneki watched the silvery reflection, a distortion akin to a funhouse mirror.

"Glad to hear it's good for something," Kaneki said bitterly.

Amon glanced at him, though Kaneki didn't bother to look at him to see how he was being looked at. He figured Amon was in a shitty mood, so it'd be a shitty look anyway.

"I'm sorry."

Oh. Well, fuck.

Kaneki looked up at Amon in alarm, his mouth falling open. Amon had a solemn look upon his face, his lips pulled back into a grimace. Up close, it was clear that he had dark circles beneath his swollen lower lids.

Mado was definitely dead.

Somehow, that didn't make Kaneki happy.

"Why are you sorry?" he asked quietly, guilt squirming into his gut. I was the one who killed your partner, he thought dully. Even if Touka dealt the final blow, it was me. I made it happen. I wanted it to happen. I had the intent to kill, and I acted on that intent. That is murder.

Yes, that was right. He was the murderer. Touka, his weapon. Hide, his accomplice. Hinami, his accessory.

Murderer.

Don't make me a killer.

Hadn't he said that to this man?

Don't make me a killer!

Too little, too late.

A killer he was, a killer he would be.

"You were locked in here for a while." Amon looked down, clearly conflicted. "I'm still angry with you. I think what you did was stupid, and you still need to learn that ghouls are garbage. But it was an honest mistake, I think. You learned your lesson, and you shouldn't have been here for as long as you were. I'm sorry it's taken so long for your release."

Kaneki's guilt was getting the better of him. He wanted to scream. This man wouldn't understand, couldn't understand, and it was all wrong. It was wrong, wrong, wrong!

"I wish I could make you understand," Kaneki whispered.

"You don't regret it at all, do you?" Amon asked him bitterly. He shot Kaneki a glance. And then he snorted. "Of course. Why did I think any different? You're pretty damn dangerous, Kaneki Ken."

"I want to make you understand." Kaneki's hands closed into fists at his side. "Amon, this world is wrong. Isn't it?"

Amon's eyes widened. Of course he couldn't disagree. Kaneki had stolen those words right off his tongue.

"Yes," he agreed somberly.

"Some ghouls are garbage, like you said." Kaneki watched the elevator doors slide open. "However, humans are just the same. In the history of the human race, how many serial killers have popped up? How many humans murder humans for less valid reasons than ghouls? When a ghoul kills a human, usually it's because they have no other choice, right? They didn't choose to become a ghoul. But humans kill other humans out of their own volition. Their own vices, their own sickness." Sickness. That wasn't solely a human attribute either. Even ghouls had mental illnesses. Even ghouls succumbed to the existential rot of depression. "Humans can be monsters too."

Amon stood, staring out the open elevator doors in silence. His jaw was clenched and his brow was furrowed, and Kaneki wondered what he was thinking.

"Humans like that are locked away or killed," Amon said quietly. "As ghouls are."

"You think justice is that fair?" Kaneki was surprised. He let his surprise seep into his tone to the point where he sounded almost sarcastic. "How idealistic of you, Amon."

"What are you saying?" Amon looked back at him sharply. "Of course I believe in justice."

"I'm not asking what you believe in, I'm asking if you think justice is fair in this world." Kaneki brushed past him, moving out of the elevator and turning on his heels to face him. "News flash! It's not. This world has never been fair. Humans are nasty creatures, just like ghouls. We are responsible for atrocities unlike any ever seen in history. We start wars we can't end, and the innocent suffer for our crimes. Where's your justice then?"

Amon stood, tight lipped and glowering. He didn't seem to know how to respond.

"Ghouls aren't like humans, Kaneki," he said quietly.

"You're right," Kaneki said. He smiled, and he offered a meager little shrug. "Humans are like ghouls."

Amon's nostrils flared, and he stepped out of the elevator, his chin lifting high so he could glare down at him. "You have no idea what ghouls are capable of," he said coldly. He marched past Kaneki, his hands clenched into fists at his side. "Enough. I don't want to argue about this any longer. I value you as a friend, Kaneki, and I've already lost enough friends."

Kaneki paused. "Ah…" He glanced over his shoulder at Amon's back. "I'm sorry, Amon. Did…" Kaneki swallowed hard as he turned around. "Did something happen?"

Amon stopped. He stood for a few moments, staring ahead of him at the front doors of Cochlea. His shoulders slumped, and his body seemed to fall into a lapse of numbness.

"Mado is dead," he said in a clipped voice. "The daughter ghoul a killed him about a week ago."

It was a relief to hear it confirmed, but the guilt inside Kaneki's stomach knotted tighter. The daughter ghoul. So they thought Hinami killed him? She'd never be safe.

"I'm sorry," Kaneki repeated. It sounded so dead, so empty, but he could tell that Amon was in such a bad place that he wouldn't even notice or care. That, in Kaneki's opinion, was the saddest part of all of this.

Amon took a deep breath. He turned around, and he glared at Kaneki.

"Stop underestimating ghouls," he snapped. "Stop arguing about it! You aren't important or special, Kaneki. You're replaceable, just like any other soldier, so stop playing the activist and keep your mouth shut!"

"I won't censor my feelings for the CCG's benefit," Kaneki said firmly.

"You need to listen." Amon clenched his fist, bringing it to his lips and glaring away from Kaneki's face as if looking at him was just too painful. "Damn it. Why are you so much trouble? Nobody actually cares if you care about a ghoul's feelings or not, Kaneki. The more you yell about it, the more suspicious people will be, and the more likely you'll wind up in this place again." He gestured vaguely around him at the wonderful inner decor of Cochlea's front desk. The receptionist was sitting there with a puzzled look on his face.

"Well maybe the CCG should be going after actually dangerous ghouls, then?" Kaneki shrugged. "Just saying. Um, anyway, didn't you want to stop arguing about this?"

"You need to understand," Amon sighed. "You're… you're not that important anymore, Kaneki. You're not safe."

"I've never been safe," he said calmly.

"No." Amon stared at Kaneki, his eyes widening. "You don't understand." He enunciated each word like he was spitting in Kaneki's face.

The door opened behind him, a heavy breath of air and a breeze from the chilly November afternoon slipping into the room.

"Mr. Koutarou?" a timid voice called from the door. "I heard you yelling. Is everything okay?"

Kaneki looked past Amon's shoulder, and he found himself freezing up in horror. His body had stiffened in shock, his mouth falling open as he backpedaled rapidly.

Because the boy at the door was his mirror image.

Chapter Text

Granted, there were some big differences.

For one thing, this boy was plainly shorter than Kaneki. His face was about as round and youthful as Kaneki's was (is?), but somehow softer and smoother. He was very thin and small, not only because of his stature but because of his gait. As he stood in the doorway, he was shrinking into it, causing an illusion where entryway seemed to yawn open like a great glass mouth, and the boy was trapped inside the kill zone, growing smaller and smaller as he prepared to be swallowed. His hair was shorter than Kaneki's, shorn unevenly as though by his own unsteady hand, and it fell against his dark, round cheeks. That was another huge difference.

The mirror's skin was a warm, healthy brown color.

It wasn't necessarily weird for mixed race kids to appear in Tokyo, but it really threw Kaneki off, because he'd been so sure he'd been looking at himself. If the boy had been even just a little paler, Kaneki would have smacked himself to make the mirror image disappear. It was just so jarring, looking into this boy's face, seeing the pale medical eyepatch fastened safely to his right eye, and realizing that this wasn't Kaneki's reflection. It was a real boy.

This wasn't his imagination.

This was really happening.

"Oh god…" Kaneki found himself covering his left eye in fear of exposing himself. His fingernails were digging instinctively into the tender flesh of his eyelid, fearing the worst had dropped upon him. He couldn't process what was happening. He just simply feared.

"Kaneki…?" Amon looked at him with some degree of concern, his dark eyes growing wider.

The boy seemed unbearably confused, his eyebrows knitting together desperately as he looked sharply away from Kaneki's face. Kaneki watched his hand lift gingerly to touch his eyepatch, his movements quick and nervous. He was clearly self-conscious.

Suddenly, Kaneki was entirely too empty. He felt like he was drifting, his mind vacating his body and leaving him with nothing but a bundle of weaknesses. He was nothing but a porous shield. A story etched into a round, leatherbound disc, tattered beyond repair. He couldn't think properly.

Then, all that emptiness was filled with pooling, icy rage.

His eyes slid sharply to Amon's face, his fingers dipping against the hollow of his eye socket, protruding veins rising beneath his fingertips. He wanted the whole world to feel his fury.

"What did you do?" he hissed, the heel of his hand digging into his left eye. His fingers trembled as he covered his kakugan, the rest of his body coiling with tension. It wasn't like the atmosphere had been lighthearted to begin with, but Kaneki knew how his mood had flipped the vibes in the air to straight up murderous. He was too angry to think straight. He was too disgusted to rein himself in.

"I haven't done anything," Amon retorted, his eyes narrowing. "You need to calm down. Right now. Get a grip."

When Amon stepped forward, Kaneki backed away, his bare feet scraping the linoleum and making a shrill squeaking sound. He threw Amon a furious glare, holding his darkened eye with one hand as he used the other to hold up between them.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about," he whispered, his eyes growing dull as he found his heart pulling back, receding into a thorny patch inside the hollows of his chest cavity. "Why? Why would anyone do this?"

He was speaking, but not to Amon. He was letting his mind go, and words fell out. Out of his lips, out of his heart. He was feeling faint, like he'd never really been here to begin with.

Amon had been insinuating that he was replaceable for awhile now. But… could the CCG really be capable of such a terrible thing?

Kaneki's wrath crept back to him like a rabid dog being beckoned by its owner. He felt a little dizzy as he slumped, lowering his face into his hands and taking deep breaths. No, Amon was right. He needed to calm down. But it was hard. It was so hard, because he was so angry. Seeing this boy, seeing the eyepatch and making hasty assumptions, it made him sick, because he was violently recollecting his own experiences. It wasn't right. No one should have to go through this!

"Why…?" Kaneki had to think clearer. He had to think! Hadn't this all happened before? He clapped his hands over his eyes, and he could see the restless images, frayed patches on the edges of two girls watching him with vacant expressions, mirror images falling before him. "Oh… is that it…? Shiro and Kuro…?"

"White and black…?" Amon sounded skeptical. Kaneki didn't even want to look at him. "Listen, you already scared the kid off. I know the past few weeks have been stressful, but you have to pull yourself together right now. Okay?"

Kaneki's palms dug into his eyes as his fingernails dug deep into the roots of his hair. He nodded, even though he wasn't sure if it was possible. Had he broken? Already? How had that happened? Ryouko's death wasn't enough to trigger this, and he hadn't been through anything truly traumatic since the God of Death had lobotomized him.

So why?

Why did he feel so bad?

"I'm sorry," he murmured, letting the hand covering his right eye slip away. He let his gaze rise, and he smiled tremulously. "I… I overreacted. All I really do is overreact, I guess…" He took a deep breath, his hand pressing hard to his kakugan.

Amon let out a rather discontented sigh, and he shook his head. "I guess I can't exactly blame you," he said, albeit begrudgingly. "But are you going to be okay? Your eye is acting up, and I don't have anything to give you."

"It's not because I'm hungry," Kaneki murmured, rubbing the persistent veins absently. "This will happen if I'm excessively scared, or anxious, or excited, or, in this case, angry."

"That's inconvenient for you," Amon observed. "Will it go away soon? We're kind of on a compressed schedule, and you can't have that thing showing."

"It'll probably go away soon—" Kaneki broke off, looking sharply at the door as the boy from earlier burst in, huffing and puffing.

"M-Mr. Koutarou!" He rushed up to them, stopping abruptly to drop into a deep bow. He straightened up, his cheeks reddened with an anxious flush. "Um… I think… I think I can help Mr. Kaneki. If that's okay?"

Kaneki stared at him as the boy dared not meet his eye. He felt guilty. He'd probably made a poor first impression on the kid.

Suddenly the boy was offering out both his hands.

"I had an extra one in the car," he explained hastily, pushing the familiar looking eyepatch toward Kaneki. "Please take it. You need it right now, don't you?"

Kaneki was shocked. He'd thought for sure he'd scared the boy half to death, but here he was, offering out his help in the best way he could. Kaneki was deeply touched by the notion. He reached for the eyepatch, plucking it gingerly from the boy's hands and staring at it sadly. It occurred to him that he'd been avoiding wearing one. Why? Because Hide had said it looked too conspicuous? Kaneki didn't really need it much anymore, except for isolated incidents like this where he simply lost complete control of his emotional state.

"Thank you," Kaneki murmured.

"That was very smart, Mutsuki," Amon told the boy kindly. The boy looked down at his feet, as though he wasn't entirely comfortable with the praise. Amon checked a watch on his wrist, his eyebrows furrowing. "Ah. We need to get going. I was hoping to stop at your apartment, Kaneki, so you could get changed, but I don't think that's practical. It'll take us about fifteen minutes to get to the first ward, so we might be okay as long as there's no traffic. Taking thirty five minutes to return to the twentieth ward, and then additionally another twenty five minutes to get from the twentieth ward to the first ward, that's just too much time we don't have."

"It's okay," Kaneki said, though he didn't really believe that. He didn't like the idea that he had to walk around in prison garb. Especially if they were going to the main office. Everyone already knew he was a ghoul, and to show up looking like a straight up felon was uncomfortable, to say the least. "Did Cochlea eat my clothes, or something?"

"I honestly could not tell you the mysteries of the inner workings of Cochlea," Amon said. It was worded like a joke, but the man looked so serious that Kaneki could only manage a forced smile.

Amon led them out the yawning glass doors, and Kaneki put on the eyepatch quickly. The fresh, chilly air made him shudder, the revelation that he was truly free beginning to sink in. But as quickly as the tingle of euphoria came, it faded. He wasn't really free. He'd trapped himself in the CCG's web, and he would never ever be released.

It was sad. He'd made his Faustian bargain, and for what?

He felt like nothing had even changed.

"Kaneki, this is Mutsuki Tooru," Amon said as he led them to the car. "He's a special circumstance, like you."

Mutsuki and Kaneki glanced at each other. He looked pretty young, but Kaneki supposed he couldn't judge. He recalled Touka chiding him once for looking like a high schooler. But he really couldn't imagine that this boy was any older than him.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Mutsuki said carefully, his eye averting quickly, as though keeping up eye contact was just too much for him.

"Yeah." Kaneki stared at him vacantly, wondering if he really was a half-ghoul after all. There were humans with eyepatches, obviously. Maybe Kaneki had been wrong to jump to such a harsh conclusion. "Sorry, I'm just… a little confused right now."

Mutsuki nodded, though he didn't offer any explanation. Kaneki sighed.

He was offered the passenger's seat, which honestly was alarming, but he took it so Mutsuki didn't feel awkward. He could tell the boy was really shy, and he understood how excruciating it was to be put on the spot. He sunk into his seat, eying his hands and realizing he was probably just as fucked now as he'd been rotting in that cell.

"I'm sorry about Mr. Mado, Amon," Kaneki lied, his fingers brushing his chin. "Were you two close?"

Amon's knuckles were white against the steering wheel. He did not meet Kaneki's eye.

"We were partners," Amon said simply. And that was all. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Kaneki turned his face away, staring out the window and watching the tall buildings reach above his field of vision, cars whirring past, people gathering in bulky crowds near crosswalks. He wasn't used to cars, honestly. Living in the city for basically his whole life had kind of left him without much use for a car. He certainly couldn't drive. It was funny. He'd lived in Tokyo for so long, but it was rare that he really got to see Tokyo. It felt like he'd been hiding in one quiet little corner, crouching behind average sized buildings and hoping he didn't have to step out of his comfort zone.

He was really, really confused. He wanted to ask Mutsuki if Kanou had experimented on him too, but he didn't know how. It was possible, wasn't it? Kaneki was certain he'd pushed Kanou into hiding earlier than expected, since he'd gone to the CCG initially and shed some light on his malpractice. But what did that mean for Shiro and Kuro?

I forgot all about them, Kaneki thought numbly. Shit. Maybe I should track them down before they become half-ghouls.

He could probably use the CCG for that, but… how did he bring them up without it being super suspicious? Like…?

"Mr. Kaneki?" Mutsuki's small voice startled him out of his thoughts. "Can I ask you a question?"

Kaneki glanced over his shoulder, and he nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Sure, go ahead."

Mutsuki stared at him, and Kaneki saw his fingers clench suddenly at the fabric of his beige duffle coat. "Why… were you in Cochlea, exactly?"

Kaneki's eyes widened. He glanced sharply at Amon, who kept his eyes firmly on the road, leaving no betrayal of emotion. Kaneki scowled.

"Uh…" He laughed nervously, glancing away from both of them and decidedly staring out the window. "I made a decision that the CCG wasn't too keen on, so I got locked up for a bit."

"That…" Mutsuki sounded plainly confused, his voice trailing off. Maybe he was a little skeptical. After all, Kaneki wasn't really offering any details, and what he did offer sounded pretty sketchy.

"It's nothing you need to worry about, Mutsuki," Amon said firmly. "Kaneki's case is a little more complicated than yours."

"Oh." Mutsuki didn't say anything more, though Kaneki could sense he was itching to.

"I'm sorry if I scared you earlier," Kaneki said, turning in his seat to face him. Mutsuki stared at him, his visible eye wide. He didn't deny that he'd been scared but he looked a little uncertain.

"That's okay, Mr. Kaneki," he said softly. The way he said Kaneki-san, it was practically dripping with over saturated respect. It seemed kind of forced and out of place.

"Can I ask?" Kaneki pointed at Mutsuki's eyepatch, watching his hand fly up to touch it gingerly. "It's not really an injury. Right?"

Mutsuki shook his head slowly. His mouth opened. And then it closed. He looked down at his lap. For the first time, Kaneki really looked at him. He was wearing that beige duffle coat over a pair of jeans, his coat buttoned up nearly to his chin and his hood bundling around his neck. His hair was as dark as Kaneki's, but thicker and shorter, uneven and wispy. His one visible eye was naturally very big, leaving the impression of a deer in distress. There was a duffle bag sitting on the seat beside him.

The car came to a stop, and Kaneki continued to stare at Mutsuki. He felt desperate with his confusion, but he also needed to know if his rage had been valid. What if he'd just snapped over nothing? The thought made him feel immensely guilty.

Kaneki exited the car, his feet scraping the cool pavement of the main office's parking lot. The wind blew, striking his bare arms, and he sighed. He shot a glance at Amon as he stepped out of the driver's seat.

"So," he said, "why are we here?"

Amon rounded the car with a mellow expression, as though he were simply being patient with Kaneki. He closed his eyes. "Well," he said distantly, "the Bureau Director wants a word with you and Mutsuki. Which, by the way, is a pretty big deal."

"Oh. Damn, am I in trouble?" Kaneki was joking, but Amon's eyes snapped open, and he glared down at him.

"What happened before can't happen again," Amon warned. "Right now, what the main office wants to see is results. Do they continue to waste time on you, or do they simply replace you? That's what this is about. So stop taking things so lightly, and remember to do your job. You are a ghoul investigator, Kaneki. Whatever else you are doesn't matter."

Kaneki turned his face away sharply. "I don't need you to remind me of that," he murmured.

"No," Amon said darkly. "You do. Let's go." He opened the back door without looking. "Mutsuki."

"Coming!" The boy's voice broke nervously. From within the car there was a quick zip, and Mutsuki poked his head out of the car. "Sorry. Um…" He stepped out, and he offered a bundle of clothes out to Kaneki. There was a pair of athletic sneakers sitting on top. "Will this do? I think my pants will be a little short on you."

Kaneki stared at him with wide eyes. Amon, too, seemed to be taken aback, his eyes widening and softening.

"Mutsuki…" Kaneki's eyes traveled to the clothes. What could he do? He didn't even know this kid. He'd literally just scared the crap out of him, and he was offering up his clothes just… for what? Kaneki didn't know. The worst part was, Kaneki knew he'd do the same. It made him angry. He wanted to stop seeing an echo of himself in this stranger, because it wasn't fair to him. "Are you sure?"

"I…" Mutsuki glanced away quickly. "Not to be rude, but you looked like you just broke out of prison. You're from the twentieth ward, right?" He looked back at Kaneki, and then he offered out the clothes again. "You don't want to walk into the main office looking like that. Trust me, even ill-fitting clothes like this… are better than being the talk of the whole CCG."

"That's exaggerating a little, isn't it, Mutsuki?" Amon offered with a short, nervous laugh.

Mutsuki seemed to flush, and he shook his head. "No, I'm being serious," he insisted. "You don't want to be on the bad side of a rumor like that, Mr. Koutarou. It's way safer if Kaneki— Mister—"

"Kaneki is just fine, Mutsuki," Kaneki said, reaching out and grasping the clothes. "It's fine. Thank you so much for this. I owe you big time, okay?"

"You don't owe me anything?" Mutsuki looked sheepish now, and Kaneki shrugged, pondering at how he was going to get changed in a parking lot.

"Just change in the car," Amon sighed, shaking his head. "We don't have time to find a public restroom, and the whole point of this is avoiding walking in there dressed like that. So, uh..."

Kaneki wasn't exactly comfortable with that, but it didn't seem like he had much of a choice. He exhaled sharply, and he nodded, climbing into the back seat of Amon's car and shutting the door. Both men immediately turned around to give him his privacy, which he was grateful for, but at this point things like this didn't bother him all that much. Maybe it would have before, back before Yamori, back before everything had become so muddled, but now he was so desensitized to this idea of shame that he couldn't even process it.

The really uncomfortable thing was actually getting dressed while sitting down. That was fucking annoying.

"Thanks," he said again as he tugged on the snug sneakers, his toes cramping as he untucked the back of the shoe. He all but jumped out of the car, testing the feel of Mutsuki's clothes. They were small, but not quite enough that he couldn't move. He rolled up the short hem of the pants so it at least didn't look like he was wearing jeans that didn't fit.

"No problem," Mutsuki said quietly.

"That does look better," Amon admitted as Kaneki slammed the car door shut. "That was a good idea, Mutsuki."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Hey, Mutsuki," Kaneki said as Amon waved them both forward. "Question. Why do you have a duffle bag full of clothes in Amon's back seat?"

Mutsuki paused midstep. He stood for a moment, looking a little rattled, but then continued walking. "I'm between places right now," he explained in a soft, melancholy voice.

"Oh." Kaneki considered this. "Wait, are you saying you don't have anywhere to live?"

"Uh, well, I mean," Mutsuki gasped, shaking his head hastily, "it's not really a big deal at all, really! I was just living at school before this, and now I don't go to school anymore, so I can't live there, but it's really not a big deal, there are lots of hotels in Tokyo—"

"You can't live in hotel." Kaneki shook his head. Why do I care so much? he wondered mildly. He couldn't help it. He simply cared too much. Wasn't that just his thing? Caring? Too damn much? About everything and everyone? "What university did you go to, anyway?"

"I…" Mutsuki was staring at Kaneki like he'd slapped his head on backwards. Amon gave a sharp little chuckle from ahead of them, and Kaneki shot a glare at his shaking shoulders.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Mutsuki went to the CCG Academy, Kaneki," Amon explained with a small smirk. "He's fifteen."

"Huh?" Kaneki glanced at the boy, who immediately bowed his head and hid his face. "You went to that ghoul hunting school?"

"You didn't?" Mutsuki blurted, looking a little scandalized. "How did you end up here in the first place, if not by the academy?"

"Uh." Kaneki took a moment to think about it, but only superficially. "Yeah, basically unadulterated stupidity."

"You know there are worse places you can be right now," Amon reminded him, pulling the door to the CCG's main office open. "Like a cell."

"Or a lab table," Kaneki retorted, brushing past him. "I'd say in a briefcase too, but—"

"Kaneki, no."

"Oh, what, am I not allowed to joke about that stuff?" Kaneki rolled his eyes. "Do I get to like, decide what happens to it? After I die? Like do I get to will special quinque rights?" He smiled grimly. "That'd be cool."

"What?" Mutsuki asked flatly.

"Kaneki's just being morbid," Amon said quickly. "Don't mind him, he's been through a lot. Have you ever been to the main office before, Mutsuki?"

"Um…" The boy was glancing around the entrance in awe. "Once? It was a while ago, though. I don't remember it well."

"Is Mr. Shinohara still operating from this office?" Kaneki asked, his hands slipping into the soft pockets of Mutsuki's sweater. They both had similar tastes in clothing, so that was good, at least.

"Yeah." Amon smiled fondly. "It seems like he has his hands full with his new partner, though."

"Suzuya?" Kaneki couldn't say it was all that surprising, considering he'd met the kid before and, yeah, they were a handful, but Shinohara had seemed so… in control. It was news to Kaneki that Suzuya and Shinohara had been newly paired up. The way Shinohara had interacted with them, it seemed to Kaneki like he'd been mentoring Suzuya for a long time.

"You met him?" Amon looked curious. "Shinohara introduced you two, or something?"

"Uh…" Kaneki thought about his stolen wallet, and the small fibs he'd told to alleviate the tension of the situation. "Something like that. So wait, Mutsuki, you're still a student? A high schooler?"

"I don't go to school anymore," Mutsuki admitted.

"He's a Rank 3 Investigator," Amon explained vacantly as they entered an elevator. "Like you."

It only took Kaneki just about the entire elevator ride for it to really sink in that he was standing next to his replacement.

Holy shit, he thought, glancing down at Mutsuki. I might be digging my grave right now. This boy, he's going to be the first to toss the dirt over the coffin. Holy shit.

"What… happened… when I was in Cochlea?" he wondered aloud, partially to himself, but mostly to Amon. "I'm really confused."

"Give it a moment, Kaneki," Amon told him gently. "We're getting there. First let's get you guys to this meeting, and then you'll get your answers."

That made him nervous. Like he was being led into a trap. Part of him wanted to backpedal and find an escape route. Everyone around him was an enemy, no matter how friendly, no matter how sweet. It made his skin prickle. He wasn't even breathing now. Could he really trust Amon? And this boy, Mutsuki, who even was he?

No. This was too much. Too much, too fast. He wasn't ready to face his mistakes just yet.

"Kaneki…?" Mutsuki was glancing at him worriedly. He'd started his usual Kaneki-san, but cut himself off quickly. He'd stopped midway down a hall, he realized, staring into the void beneath Amon's back. Under the fabric of his coat, his cotton shirt, his easily torn flesh, and the strong sinew stretching thinly over bone. He stared into a space where his mind escaped him, where his consciousness faded, and he was left with this frozen husk of a body, useless as ever.

"Huh?" He allowed himself to snap out of his reverie, and he looked at Mutsuki. The boy was a careful distance away, though he'd turned around completely and stopped to wait for Kaneki. What could he deduce from that? Mutsuki was scared of him, but…? But also, he seemed to care a whole lot about Kaneki's general wellbeing. Maybe, Kaneki thought, as though Mutsuki could hear him, you see it too. How alike we are. "Oh. Sorry, I got distracted."

"Are you okay, Kaneki?" Amon asked cautiously.

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

Kaneki shot him a sharp look, and he folded his arms across his chest. "Amon, if there was a real problem, trust me. You'd know." He started forward, leaving Mutsuki behind to watch confusedly. He was fifteen. He was young, and he was scared.

He was not a threat. He was just a child, and whatever his situation was right now, it was simply unfair that he had to go through this.

Kaneki had been eighteen. Three years older, and yet he never would have been able to live at all without the guidance of Anteiku. This boy appeared to be quite fine, though. Nervous, but overall very supportive and pretty damn calm, all things considering. Because… wasn't he, like, homeless? And by all accounts, a newly turned ghoul?

Amon led them down a hallway and stopped near the end at a pair of double doors. He rapped his knuckles twice against them while Kaneki and Mutsuki stood silently at either side of him, one reflecting the other without really meaning to.

The man who opened the door was middle-aged, with a soft face sculpted out of a lifetime of hardships. He was smiling, and it looked genuine, reaching his dark eyes until they crinkled at the corners. Those same bright, crinkling eyes moved swiftly from one face to the other. Kaneki didn't miss the glint to his gaze.

"All here, then?" The man, startling poised and still smiling gently, stepped aside and held the door open for them. "I'd like to begin as soon as possible."

"I'm sorry for any delay, sir," Amon said in a firm, dignified voice. "Cochlea didn't hold on to Kaneki's clothes, so we had to make do."

"Well, Cochlea doesn't have much of a reason to keep clothing around, does it?" The man chuckled, glancing at Kaneki. For some reason, Kaneki was a little suspicious. It didn't seem plausible that this random old man would be able to tell which tiny eyepatched kid was Kaneki Ken just by glancing. "You seem to have gotten along well enough without clothes."

"I'm borrowing them." Kaneki watched the man's back as he turned away, walking toward a warm mahogany desk and hopping right up on top of it. He sat near the edge so his feet scraped the floor, leaning back leisurely as he gestured to the seats before him. There were only two. Amon hung back, a signal for Kaneki and Mutsuki to go on and take the seats.

"My name is Washuu Yoshitoki," the man said calmly as Kaneki and Mutsuki slowly took their places in their designated seats. Mutsuki looked nervous. Kaneki didn't know how he looked, but he sensed it probably wasn't all that great. "I'm the Bureau Director here at the CCG. Which, you know, all in good fun. Lots of paperwork and such." Yoshitoki smiled down at them. "Let me guess. Kaneki Ken," he jerked his finger toward Kaneki's face, then immediately swung it toward Mutsuki, who jumped. "Mutsuki Tooru. Right?"

"How did you…?" Mutsuki's visible eye was so wide, Kaneki thought it might activate its kakugan at any moment. Then without warning, Mutsuki seemed to relax. He bowed his head, and Kaneki blinked at him curiously. He's figured something out, he realized. Ah. So this boy was probably more investigator than hunter. Was that a good thing? Kaneki couldn't be sure just yet. "Oh."

"Oh?" Yoshitoki tilted his head, his dark, fluffy hair falling away from his face. "What? Are you going to call my bluff?"

Mutsuki glanced up at him, his brow furrowing. He pressed his lips firmly together, and he averted his gaze sharply.

"You can speak freely," Yoshitoki told Mutsuki quickly, probably sensing that the boy was completely closing up.

Mutsuki exhaled sharply. He met Yoshitoki's eye, his jaw tightening.

"It wasn't a bluff," he said softly.

Yoshitoki smiled. "Well," he said, "then how did I know?"

Kaneki turned to stare at Mutsuki. The boy's fingers clenched at the hem of his coat, and he took a deep breath. "You read our files," he murmured, turning his eyes toward his lap. "Right?"

"Huh." Yoshitoki looked over their heads, likely meeting Amon's eye. "Koutarou. Did you read Mutsuki's file?"

"No, sir." Amon sounded a little confused. "As far as I know, Mutsuki's file hasn't been digitally stored in the CCG's network, so if you have his file, that's the only one available. Kaneki, however, is a completely different story."

"You don't need to read a file to know my baggage, Amon," Kaneki tried to joke. Only Yoshitoki laughed. Kaneki tried not to look too stung. Hide would have laughed, he thought glumly. Hide. Oh, god, he needed to contact Hide!

"Mutsuki's file should remain classified for now, I think," Yoshitoki said, frowning a bit. "The details of his predicament are pretty underwraps, and if information leaked out into public forums anyone could get to it. It'd just make him a target, really."

"Mr. Washuu," Kaneki spoke up, his voice rather dead. "Did you…" He raised his eyes, unable to keep his cold fury to himself. "Did the CCG use me in order to recreate Kanou's experiment and birth more half-ghouls?"

Yoshitoki did not answer immediately. He merely studied Kaneki's face, his soft face looking rather worn and exhausted. Mutsuki had stiffened in his seat, his one visible eye sliding hastily to Kaneki's face.

"Kaneki—" Amon started, letting out an exasperated sigh. Yoshitoki held up his hand, waving it casually at Amon, who immediately fell silent.

"It's just an honest question, Koutarou," Yoshitoki said, smiling dimly. "I think we owe Kaneki an explanation at the very least, don't you?"

"Of course," Amon said. "I'm sorry. I just think he could have phrased that better."

"Everything I say is wrong," Kaneki quipped in a clipped, bitter voice. "At this point, Amon, you should just start whispering in my ear what to do and say at any given moment."

"Stop that, Kaneki." Amon's voice was cold and firm. "I understand your anger, but you are acting like a child."

"They experimented on me!" Kaneki jerked to his feet and whirled around to face Amon. He wasn't even angry at him. He wasn't sure who he was angry at, but he was angry, and it felt so cold as it leaked through his chest, like melting ice pooling at the bottom of a cooler. "They drugged me and took me out of my cell when I was sleeping. They used me to make more human weapons!"

"Kaneki," Yoshitoki said gently. "Calm down. I can promise you, what was done to you in Cochlea was not experimentation. The doctors there were merely monitoring your life signs, in addition to your RC signature. They were able to determine from a completely non-invasive set of tests how to safely mimic Dr. Kanou's experiment."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Kaneki said coolly, his fists clenching at his sides. "So you experimented on a child instead? My bad. That makes it all fucking better."

"Kaneki!" Amon reprimanded sharply. Kaneki decidedly ignored him.

"It wasn't like that," Mutsuki gasped, looking up at Kaneki with his one visible eye clearly desperate and scared. "Kaneki, please, I consented to the surgery! It wasn't—"

"The CCG is a large scale military faction with numerous branches around the globe," Kaneki informed Mutsuki curtly. "They have money and resources and manpower that ghouls do not. To put it simply, the CCG didn't need you. But kids are easy." His eyes flashed dangerously to Yoshitoki's warm, weary face. "Kids won't ask questions, and if they're desperate, they won't need much convincing at all."

Mutsuki's mouth clamped shut. From the way the atmosphere in the room shifted, it was clear that Kaneki's vicious, rapid words had hit home. And maybe Kaneki might have felt bad about that if it had been any other time, but he was so furious that he could barely reach any other emotion inside the void that seemed to envelope his chest.

Yoshitoki inhaled sharply, and he stretched his legs out further from the desk. He scratched his cheek, smiling vacantly down at his feet. He had a very calming presence, his eyes softening more and more with every passing moment. Kaneki didn't know why, but he found his anger fading rapidly, replaced by an inexplicable desire to crack open this man's head and feel his secrets fall like warm summer rain through Kaneki's fingers.

"Kaneki," the man said gently, "I was the one who authorized the Q project. I saw your test results first hand, and I understand your reservations on the subject, but we made alterations to Kanou's initial experiment. That offers Mutsuki far more freedom than you have, and lessens the risk of an RC spike." He sighed, lowering his head in what might have been reflection, his smile dim and sad. "I'm sorry. You have been through so much already, so this probably came as a shock. But, Kaneki, you and Mutsuki are two completely different cases."

"We're both crossbreeds," Kaneki whispered. "What's the difference? Do you honestly think that because you got consent first, that makes what you did somehow more ethical than what Kanou did to me? You're delusional!"

"You were implanted with ghoul organs," Yoshitoki assured, resting his hands back against his desk and lounging against it. "Of course that had a lot of negative consequences. In truth, I doubt Dr. Kanou expected you to survive this long on your own. But you know, against all odds, here you are!" Yoshitoki tilted his head, and he shrugged. "Mutsuki, however, was implanted with kakuhou sealed within a box made with the same basic material as the quinque. This prohibits his RC cells from rapidly reproducing, or for his regular cells to begin to mutate. Essentially, he's a normal human with the ability to use the kagune."

Kaneki stared at him blankly. Very slowly, he settled back into his seat, mulling over Yoshitoki's words. He wasn't quite so enraged as he was confused, because he didn't quite get how it was possible for a "normal human" to use the kagune and have a kakugan. It just didn't make sense.

He turned to face Mutsuki. "A normal human? So you can still eat human food?"

Mutsuki seemed to go rigid, like a cat that had been spooked and felt the need to violently recoil, but could not quite fully react. "You… you can't?" he asked in a tremulous voice.

"Don't worry too much, Mutsuki," the CCG Director piped up. "If Kaneki was dangerous, he wouldn't have been allowed out of Cochlea."

"But why was he there in the first place?" Mutsuki blurted. He looked immediately remorseful, his dark cheeks reddening. He bowed his head as Yoshitoki laughed.

"Ah, well, from what I've heard," he said with a peculiar brightness to his tone, "Kaneki here is very compassionate. A little too much, I'm afraid, for the general liking of our organization. Basically he was being punished for insubordination."

"Isn't sending him to Cochlea a little… extreme?" Mutsuki glanced worriedly at Kaneki's face, his hands wringing in his lap. He's so nervous, Kaneki thought sadly. This poor kid. Why would he ever consent to this hell? He had a feeling that Mutsuki's story was a lot more complicated than he'd initially thought. It was a relief though, to know that he could still eat normal food.

"I recommended putting him under house arrest," Yoshitoki said thoughtfully, "but that was overruled. The detention center seemed much more intimidating, and it wasn't solely up to me, unfortunately. So I'm sorry for that as well, Kaneki. You've been treated rather harshly, and that isn't fair to you."

"Thanks," he said dully. "I… guess?"

"I guess we should address why we're all here." Yoshitoki stood up straight and rounded his desk. "Kaneki, you've shown incredible control over your kagune, leading us to assume you have a natural proficiency with it. You were also able to hold your own against a ghoul in a fight, which by the way, is very impressive for someone without any training. You'll be an amazing asset to us."

Kaneki couldn't really help but feel content as the man spoke. It felt nice to be praised by him.

"Mutsuki has been unable to summon his kagune," Yoshitoki continued, sitting down at his desk and glancing at what appeared to be a medical report. "I don't see why it's a huge deal, since, you know, he's still pretty fresh out of the surgery, but of course everyone wants to see results immediately." His eyebrows raised, and he chuckled. "Yeah, good luck with that. Anyway, I want you to coach him."

"Uh…" Kaneki and Mutsuki glanced at each other. He looked at the boy, with his round, dark face, and his large visible eye, and the eyepatch, and he remembered vividly his own experience with kagune training. He almost actually winced. "Okay. I'll try."

"Good." Yoshitoki smiled at them, leaning back in his chair. "Kaneki, since you live in the twentieth ward, I assume you're fine with continuing to operate there under Koutarou."

"Sure."

"Mutsuki," Yoshitoki continued, looking at the boy, "you'll be working with Kaneki under Amon's jurisdiction. You're still a novelty among investigators, so it may be for the best if you keep your abilities a secret for now."

"Oh. Oh, right, of course." Mutsuki nodded curtly. Kaneki thought perhaps he was the only one who really heard the relief in his voice.

"You'll both receive quinques," Yoshitoki continued, realigning the papers on his desk as though he was growing bored and fidgety, "because you will be doing field work from now on, and frankly relying on your kagune is, in my opinion, a huge health hazard. You two are not ghouls. If you burn too many RC cells trying to fight an opponent, you'll be defenseless. I assume neither of you have a preference?"

"A preference?" Kaneki repeated. His mouth was dry. The idea of twirling around some other ghoul's kagune made him sick to his stomach.

"Bikaku, Rinkaku, etcetera…?" Yoshitoki drummed a pen against his lips. "I don't know. Some people are crazy about that sort of thing. Take Mado Kureo! Ah, my apologies, Koutarou, you were partners, weren't you? He was a fascinating man, but wow. Now that's a quinque specialist."

"No preference," Kaneki stated flatly.

"Same," Mutsuki murmured.

Yoshitoki glanced between the two of them. He smiled genially, his eyes softening to the point where he looked a bit like an elderly dog. "I'll figure something out for you both," he said gently. "I can probably trust you guys not to die until then, right?" He laughed brightly, and Kaneki found himself relaxing.

"I'll be there to make sure that doesn't happen," Amon spoke up, sounding so very resolute. Kaneki closed his eyes. Carefully, he reached up and removed his eyepatch. Mutsuki stiffened in the seat beside him, looking wild eyed. Perhaps he was imagining what it'd be like to take off his own eyepatch.

"Director," he said, staring at him with dead eyes. "I'd like to speak to you alone."

The room was silent. It felt as though the atmosphere had shifted, and Kaneki was once more the unrepentant catalyst. He'd made the air turn over, releasing thick ribbons of tension over them.

However, Yoshitoki seemed inexplicably unaffected.

He smiled, and he offered a shrug. "Yeah, sure," he said. "I don't see why not." He stood, and he began to walk toward the door. He gestured for Kaneki to follow, and for a moment he merely stared in shock before quickly leaping to his feet. He tucked the eyepatch into his pocket and let Yoshitoki lead him from the room, the eyes of Amon and Mutsuki following their backs as they went.

"I almost want to guess what this is about," Yoshitoki said as they headed down the hall. "But my better judgement tells me you're not that patient. What's on your mind, Kaneki?"

He wasn't entirely sure. This was, in his mind, the only chance he had to really get to the heart of the CCG without causing another scene. But even without the theatrics, he felt like he was going to get flung into Cochlea again. He was scared to speak. He could hear his own heart racing, his eyes cast forward into nothing, and he realized he really was nothing more than an empty husk strung up and showcased around.

"You must think I'm useful," Kaneki said thoughtfully.

"You are." Yoshitoki smiled. "But that's not what this is about. Should we find somewhere to sit down?"

"I don't want to be overheard."

"Then let's go for a walk around the block." Yoshitoki stretched his arms, and he shrugged. "It's my lunch break. Plus there's a fast food place down the street, and I could use a burger." He started forward with more energy than Kaneki had anticipated, taking quick, even strides down the hall.

As he passed by his office door, he bellowed, "Koutarou! I'm going to McDonald's! What do you and Mutsuki want?"

"What?" The door opened behind them, Amon's voice quick and shaky. "Sir, you— you honestly don't have to—!"

"I'll just guess, then!" Yoshitoki zipped down the hall and onto the staircase, clearly avoiding Amon's objection like the plague. Kaneki rushed to catch up, feeling a little lost, but somewhat exhilarated.

"You're pretty new," Yoshitoki said, slowing his pace as he descended the stairwell so Kaneki could catch up. "I can tell you feel no obligation to respect me, so frankly I'd like to try my best to earn it. Your respect, and also your trust."

Kaneki looked away. His trust? Well, it was a pretty thought. He'd give him that.

"What I am," Kaneki began as they neared the exit, "has clearly influenced the CCG's decision making process. You don't care that I'm a half ghoul at this point. You just want me to kill other ghouls."

"Well no one was really anticipating you'd try to save them," Yoshitoki joked mildly, shooting Kaneki a soft smile. "That was a bold choice. I'll tell you one thing for sure, no one here will ever call you a coward."

Then why do I feel like one? he thought sadly.

"About that…" He squinted into the sunlight as they exited the CCG. "I'm still not over it. That woman shouldn't have been killed."

Yoshitoki was quiet. He stood in silence for a moment before he started forward, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his white trench coat. "Ghouls kill people," he said. "We kill ghouls. Ghouls fight back. It's a messy cycle."

"And it can end!" Kaneki looked up at the man desperately, feeling only deepening sorrow as he recalled how useless he'd been upon facing Ryouko's death. "There are really, really bad ghouls out there. Ghouls that terrorize not only humans, but other ghouls! We should focus more on them, and less on the harmless ghouls who can't even provide for themselves!"

Yoshitoki continued walking, smiling vacantly ahead of him. He was pensive for sure, thinking fast and evaluating Kaneki's every word.

"I understand," Yoshitoki said quietly. "It's hard when the people you thought you knew turn out to be something else, isn't it? But trust me, Kaneki. It's better off this way."

"We are murderers," Kaneki snapped. "We are cold blooded killers. We hunt our prey, we mock their pleas, and we beat them when we're down. We rip them apart, and we harvest their organs because they're more useful to us dead than alive. We leave entire families devastated, children without homes, without fathers or mothers, and we endlessly taunt them with the people that they've already lost to us." He shot the Director a furious glare. "Now, Mr. Washuu, who am I talking about?"

Yoshitoki's eyebrows raised, and he averted his gaze. "Well," he admitted, "that's a fair assessment. I ask myself that question sometimes. Are we no better than the ghouls?" He shrugged. "Who knows? But we're protecting people. So that's that."

"And who's going to protect people from us?" Kaneki asked.

"Ah." Yoshitoki waggled his finger. "Isn't that just the question? Tell me, Kaneki, how many ghouls do you know?"

His jaw clenched. He was being too transparent. He might as well scream that he was completely invested in the wellbeing of numerous ghouls across the city, and would die for them.

"Your voice won't be heard." Yoshitoki's footsteps were brisk, his heels clipping the sidewalk as he moved effortlessly through a crowd. Kaneki was struggling to keep by his side. "You will scream yourself hoarse trying to win over the CCG to this crusade, Kaneki. You may even lose your life to it. Please, for your own safety, stop this."

"I can't." Kaneki looked up at him, and he could feel his desperation creeping in. "There has to be a way. I exist, don't I? There has to be a reason. I want to bridge the gap between worlds. To show that humans and ghouls aren't so different. Is that wrong?"

"You joined the CCG, Kaneki. Remember that." Yoshitoki shook his head. "You chose us. You could have opposed us."

"But I didn't!" he gasped. "Because I thought you could help me! But all you've done is lock me up and treat me like a criminal for existing! You can't just do that to people!"

Yoshitoki was smiling, and that was terribly unnerving. Why? Why was he so calm?

"I can't imagine you happen to have a compromise." He paused in the middle of the sidewalk and half turned to glance back at him. His hands were still in his pockets. "Okay, then. Let's hear it. Say hypothetically, the CCG decided to listen to you and maybe start seeing the world as less black and white, and more gray. How would you convince us that you're right?"

Kaneki stood, feeling a little rattled, as though Yoshitoki had just handed him a lottery ticket with all but one number filled in.

"How?" he repeated softly.

"Yes. How?" Yoshitoki watched him with glittering eyes. "What step would you take to change our entire world? Just out of curiosity."

"Uh…" Kaneki didn't even really need to think about it. "I'd have the CCG hire a ghoul. Not a half ghoul like me, or whatever Mutsuki is. A real ghoul."

"Really?" Yoshitoki's eyes widened a bit. "How on earth would you convince a ghoul to work for the CCG?"

"Easy." Kaneki shrugged. "Offer them and their immediate relatives immunity. You'd have ghouls lining around the block, if you were serious about it."

"That's pretty risky." Yoshitoki was smiling, which was sort of frightening, but also soothing. "Granting immunity to any old ghoul?"

"Of course you'd be a little selective," Kaneki said vacantly, scratching his head. "I mean, your best bet would be ghouls who have been able to fully integrate into human society. You can actually run background checks on them."

"That's fascinating." Yoshitoki stared at Kaneki until Kaneki felt like he was going to combust. "Do you think that could actually work?"

"I don't see why not?"

Yoshitoki cocked his head in a way that seemed to say, "Well, you've got a point." He stared ahead of him for a few moments, and then he turned. He whirled on his heel, and he faced Kaneki fully. "I have an idea. I would need your complete cooperation, and also for your theory to be correct."

"Wait, what?" Kaneki choked, taking a step back.

"A ghoul could easily infiltrate a ghoul organization." Yoshitoki's smile was earnest, but also undeniably sly. "You obviously can't do it. I've seen your kakugan. Oh, it's gone now, by the way." Kaneki touched his eye self-consciously. "So, what I'm really asking is, do you think you can find a ghoul willing to work with me?"

Kaneki stared at him.

"Is this a joke?" he asked slowly. "Or like, a test? I really don't want to go back to Cochlea."

"I'm being serious this time."

"You want me to…" Kaneki's eyes widened. "You want to hire a ghoul?"

"Well, basically," he said thoughtfully, "what I really want is to hire a spy."

And before Kaneki really knew it, a deal had been struck.

Chapter Text

How does one even go about initiating making a deal with the devil?

Do you sacrifice something? Make an offering? Say some words over an open flame?

The trouble with Faustian bargains, you know, is that the devil is never summoned.

No.

He finds you.

Making a deal with the devil isn't a choice. It's a bad toss of fate.

"You know how to get in touch with me," Yoshitoki said as they walked up the stairs toward his office. He had a bag of take out in one hand, while Kaneki had been roped into holding the drinks. "I'm personally very excited to see how this goes."

"Aren't you… scared…?" Kaneki searched the man's face bemusedly. "Don't you think something will go wrong?"

"Of course that's always a possibility. Someone may get hurt." Yoshitoki glanced at Kaneki, and he sighed. "Have you ever gambled before, Kaneki?"

"No…"

"Well, don't start, it's a dangerous practice," he laughed. "But putting your faith in luck and chance is always a huge risk. I'm just willing to take it more often than not."

"Huh." Kaneki didn't like the idea of leaving things to chance. With his luck, it'd only end badly.

They stopped at Yoshitoki's office, only to find the room was empty. Yoshitoki frowned, and he shrugged, leading Kaneki in the opposite direction. "Okay," he said. "Let's go find where those two went before the food gets cold."

"Okay…" They were backtracking now. Kaneki felt a little numb, like none of this was really happening. This was an out of body experience. Like he was watching all of this happening from the corner of the ceiling, his sole trapped somewhere away from his body, and his limbs going forth and marching mechanically to the tune that had been beaten into his head a thousand times over.

That made it easy for him to completely zone out until he suddenly found himself approaching Amon and Mutsuki. Amon was chatting amiably with an investigator whose back was turned to them, while Mutsuki simply stood with his hands folded in front of him. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere else but there.

"There you are," Yoshitoki announced. Kaneki hung back as he started toward them, offering out the food he'd bought proudly. "Please take this—"

There was an overwhelming crashing sound, like falling objects coupled with a sinister splash. All Kaneki could think, hearing that sound, was a distant drum of worry. Was that blood? Whose blood? My blood? Hide's blood? Where is Hide? Where did Hide go? As if he weren't there at all, as if he'd been thrust backwards in time, as if his mind had turned to mush in the short span of seconds.

There was no real explanation. He felt like he'd been bashed in the head, like his vision had conked out and all that was left to him was this disoriented sensation, ghosts of the pain he should be feeling or should never have felt, and the harsh ringing of some internal siren going off inside his ears.

Was he bleeding from somewhere? Maybe he should sit down. Lie down. Go to sleep. Never wake up.

That'd be nice.

He had no explanations, really, for why he was suddenly so far away. He was confused. His life seemed like a joke, like a bad joke without a punchline. Like he was consistently performing in front of an audience, a stand-up comedian without even a shred of humor, and whenever he opened his mouth, there was no one who laughed. They only screamed.

He could hear them now.

Screaming. At him. Why? Why did this always happen?

Why didn't they just leave him alone?

"Kaneki!"

He was yanked back by a hook and a thread, and it felt like his skin was tearing because of it. He was suddenly made aware of his surroundings, like a blindfold had been yanked off his eyes, and he stood vacantly before four men, spilled soda pooling around his sneakers. He looked down at the cups he'd dropped, watching the ice shift around slowly as it melted into the dark carbonated liquid.

Was this supposed to be a metaphor for his life, or something?

What a mess.

"What just happened?" It was addressed to him. An urgent voice, brisk and concerned. He knew that voice. Amon? Koutarou Amon?

Right… right! He was in the CCG!

"I…" What had just happened? He didn't know. He felt terrible, like he was about to pass out at any moment, and his breathing was quick and unsteady, and he felt his heartbeat. The vicious berating of it against his ribs, the echo of it in his ears. He was scared, and he was shaking, and he didn't understand why. He wanted to scream but he didn't think he could gulp enough air to do so.

When he looked up, he realized exactly what his problem was.

Death stood before him, watching dully from behind a pair of glasses, scrutinizing Kaneki as though he were a worm. A glorified fucking worm.

He wasn't really sure what was happening, but he knew he had to get away from everyone. He just needed to get far away. It'd be okay if he just curled up into a ball and died, because he felt like he was dying anyway. Over and over.

There was a pain behind his eyes that wouldn't go away. A persistent stabbing. A reminder of his death at the hands of Death and a past that should have stayed fucking dead.

He took one unsteady step back. And then another. Could he outrun Death?

Well, he was going to fucking try.

He bolted down the hall, turning a sharp corner and nearly slipping, his sneakers squeaking against the floor due to stepping in a puddle of soda. He half gripped a wall, still rushing forward and feeling dizzier and dizzier by the moment. He couldn't breathe right, and running seemed impossible, but he was doing it. Fuck the impossible, he was doing it.

Somehow he managed to stumble across a bathroom. He all but crashed through the door, falling to his knees in one of the stalls and vomiting into a toilet. There wasn't much to puke, either, so he just spat acidic bile into the bowl, listening to his own heaving breaths and another bout of nausea shuddered through him. More bile was choked up, and he coughed, his chest seizing up and his eyes watering pitifully.

"Holy shit, are you okay?" someone gasped from behind him. Probably an investigator who'd just walked in.

Kaneki didn't even look. He just threw a jerky thumbs up, and then proceeded to vomit a mouthful of nothing into the toilet.

The pain behind his eyes wouldn't go, wouldn't go, wouldn't go away, no matter how hard he squeezed his eyes shut, no matter how much he gasped, how much he vomited, how much he tried to push it to the back of his head and abandon it to die in the harsh, cold depths of his forgotten memories. He couldn't get this image out of his head, Death standing, Death watching, Death plunging a spike through the back of his head and into his eye.

He wanted to vomit again. He tried, but it wasn't working. He had nothing left inside him to vomit.

Nothing left inside him.

That felt like the right way to describe it.

He felt like he'd vomited up his personality a long time ago, and he had nothing to fill the void but sadness and rage.

He held his head with one hand and his chest with the other, and he slumped against the bathroom floor, listening as he breathed and breathed and breathed. It was a sign that he was still alive, but he felt like he was going to die, so why should it matter, anyway? Did anything matter at all?

He felt a sudden presence beside him. A shadow yawning over him. He didn't want to look.

"I'm—" He covered his eyes with his hand. "I'm fine, just— just please… give me a minute…"

The shadow shrunk. Kaneki uncovered his eyes.

His mirror image was sitting across from him. His back was pressed up to the stall door, his knees propped up, and his visible eye averted sadly.

Kaneki continued to gulp deep breaths of air, his shaky fingers falling away from his head.

He stared at the boy, still breathless, but he could feel his senses returning to him slowly. His fingers didn't feel so tingly, and his chest wasn't so tight, and the nausea had faded, though the chill persisted.

After another minute, he managed to catch his breath. He swallowed hard, and he whisked his fingers through his hair.

"Oh god," he whispered, wiping the sweat from his face with the sleeve of his borrowed sweater. "I… I'm sorry, I… I don't know what—"

"It's fine," Mutsuki said quietly, raising his eye. "I've gotten panic attacks before, so I get it."

Kaneki swallowed hard, and he slumped against the wall of the stall. He could sense that Mutsuki was keeping an intentional distance. Maybe it was because he was scared, or maybe it was because he didn't want to invade Kaneki's personal space, or maybe it was both. Who knew?

"This is embarrassing," he murmured, pulling his legs up and burying his face in his knees.

"I told them what it was, so they're much more understanding now," Mutsuki offered. It didn't make Kaneki feel any better. A short silence stretched between them. And then, without warning, Mutsuki blurted, "I'm sorry."

Kaneki raised his head to stare at him blankly. He felt so drained, but even now he felt a twinge of awe, because Mutsuki had little mannerisms that just… were so very familiar. Kaneki understood this desperate need to make up for something that was beyond his control.

"You have nothing to apologize for," Kaneki said. He spoke as it as a gentle reminder, and Mutsuki flushed.

"I…" He winced. "I know. I just… I feel bad."

"It's no one's fault." That was a lie. It was Arima Kishou's fault. But that wasn't reasonable anymore, so right now it really was just Kaneki's fault. His mind was a mess.

Mutsuki closed his eye, and he rested his head back against the stall door. "Nobody told me about you," he said quietly. "Nobody even thought to mention it to me. Maybe… maybe it's my own fault for never asking, but when they were looking for volunteers, they never mentioned where they got the idea from."

"What did they tell you?" Kaneki asked hoarsely. "To convince you?"

"They just told us it was a new program to further quinque research," Mutsuki replied, "and that it was very high risk. But basically, anyone who could successfully partake would be able to become an investigator full time without completing the Academy." Mutsuki opened his eye, and he offered a small shrug. "That's what convinced me."

That raised some alarms. Kaneki wanted to ask more, but he didn't want to be invasive.

"Are you scared of me?" It sounded flat and empty as it fell from his lips, but in reality he was desperate. He was scared that he might have scared Mutsuki, that any friendship they might have was already tarnished by his own foolishness.

Mutsuki looked down at his knees, his jaw tightening. He took a deep breath. "Well," he sighed, "I guess I was a little, at first, but now that I know more about you, I think I get it. You didn't want this life, right?"

"I can't imagine why anyone would want to be like this," Kaneki murmured.

Self-consciously, Mutsuki's fingers brushed his eyepatch. He frowned deeply. "It must be hard for you," he said softly.

Kaneki took a deep breath. I have to be strong for this kid, he thought numbly. Strength was never something that came easy to him. It was always work, work, work. Gotta become strong, stronger, the fucking strongest. And where had that led him?

With two gaping holes in his fucking eyes.

"I'm okay," he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "Thank you so much, though."

"I didn't… do anything…"

"You sitting here with me helped me calm down," Kaneki gasped, shaking his head. "I wouldn't call that nothing!"

Mutsuki pressed his lips together, as though to make his mouth disappear completely, and he averted his gaze.

"Really," Kaneki insisted, leaning forward a bit. "It means a lot."

"You're welcome." Mutsuki watched Kaneki was he pushed himself unsteadily to his feet. "Do you need help?"

"No, I've got this." Kaneki was determined. Mutsuki couldn't use his kagune, right? And they'd be paired up together in the field. So Mutsuki had to trust Kaneki to be able to protect him. I can do that, he thought firmly. I won't let anything happen to him.

As Kaneki walked over to the sink and flicked on the faucet, Mutsuki stood up. He dusted off his coat as Kaneki washed his mouth out, grimacing at the lingering taste of bile on his tongue.

"Do you know any hotels in the twentieth ward I could stay at?" Mutsuki asked hesitantly. He was gripping the hem of his jacket again, looking a little anxious as Kaneki wiped his mouth.

He knew instantly what he was going to do, and he wished he could stop himself and be a disgusting, lowly, selfish human being, but he just couldn't do that. It wasn't who he was.

"You can stay at my apartment!" he gasped, facing Mutsuki with wide eyes. "I mean, only if you want to."

Mutsuki looked absolutely terrified. His visible eye was so big that it was mostly just white and then a blot of color somewhere in the center.

"Would that be okay?" he squeaked.

"Yeah, of course!" Kaneki smiled warmly. "You helped me so much today, it's only fair that I help you too."

Mutsuki flushed. He looked down, his mouth opening and closing, and Kaneki realized with a heavy heart that the boy looked like he was about to start crying. All of Kaneki's doubts were erased. I'm going to protect him, he thought firmly. He won't become like me, like I am now, I won't let it happen.

"T-thank you very much!" Mutsuki gasped, dropping into a deep bow. "I promise it won't be for very long, I'll find my own apartment soon!"

"Mutsuki, it's okay," Kaneki said gently. "Please don't worry about that. It's fine."

Mutsuki straightened up, but he kept his head bowed. It was likely he was hiding the tears in his eyes, and Kaneki felt guilty. He knew this feeling well, this intense sensation of being overwhelmed by someone else's kindness. He hadn't wanted this.

"Let's head back," Kaneki suggested. "I'm sure Amon's really worried."

Mutsuki raised his head, looking somewhat guilty. When he smiled, it was weak and uncertain, but it was there nonetheless, and Kaneki could only be grateful for that.

Kaneki didn't want to appear worried. He really wanted to be cool about it. But it was kind of difficult, honestly.

"What?" he asked blankly.

Mutsuki looked down at his duffle bag, and he flushed. "This… this is the only one. My only bag." He looked almost ashamed, and that made Kaneki feel even worse.

"Oh." Kaneki nodded. Maybe for a little too long, his mind working too fast to really process this whole situation. That explained why Amon had just driven off.

Kaneki unlocked his door and kicked it open. "It's a little small," he admitted sheepishly, tucking the spare key into his pocket. "Sorry. I'm on a tight budget, since I was an unemployed college student until recently."

"It's way bigger than my dorm room," Mutsuki gasped, his eye huge as it whisked around the room in awe. From the kitchenette to the tiny living room. He seemed so delighted that Kaneki was honestly touched. His shitty little apartment was impressive to someone. Was that what being fifteen was like? Could he go back to that?

"You can sleep in here," Kaneki said, leading Mutsuki to his bedroom. "Again, it's small, but—"

"Where will you sleep?" Mutsuki blurted.

Kaneki glanced at him. Smart, he thought. Mutsuki had realized immediately that Kaneki was giving him his bed.

"Don't worry," Kaneki said with a small smile. He rubbed the back of his neck. "I've kinda gotten used to not sleeping in a bed, and I'm a little apprehensive to even try. So you might as well take it."

Mutsuki didn't look so sure. His eye grew lidded, as narrowed as it could possibly get without becoming a glare. He gripped the strap of his bag tighter, and he shook his head furiously.

"I can't take your room," he said firmly. "Please don't make me."

"I'm… not…?" Kaneki studied him curiously. "Listen. I'm being serious. I don't think I'll be able to sleep in a bed for awhile, and I kind of want to ease myself back into it. It'd be a waste for me to take the bed if I won't be able to actually sleep."

Mutsuki's jaw tightened, but he didn't object. He probably realized there wasn't a point, that Kaneki had won and that he was going to sleep in the bed.

"So," Kaneki said, flicking on the light in his room and leading Mutsuki forward, "yeah. This is it. Bed. Fridge back in the kitchen? There isn't much in there, sorry… um, bathroom…" He pointed to an adjoining door. "Do you mind if I shower first? Heed my advice, okay, don't fuck with the CCG." He rifled through his drawers as Mutsuki gaped at him. "They really know how to hold grudges."

"Was Cochlea really that bad?" Mutsuki gasped.

"It could've been a lot worse, I guess," Kaneki mused, tucking his clothes under his arm. "I'm still relatively sane and in one piece. I should be grateful, really, that Mado didn't chop me up when he had the chance."

Mutsuki blanched, his lips moving and no sound coming out. He looked mildly horrified, as though he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "Are you… joking?" he asked hoarsely.

Kaneki smiled at him gently. "Yes," he lied, laughing a little as he touch his chin. "Sorry, that's in bad taste. I shouldn't speak ill of the dead."

"Mado was… Koutarou's previous partner, right?" Mutsuki's knuckles were white against the strap of his duffle bag. "You… seem to not like him very much."

"He was a scary guy," Kaneki admitted. He glanced at Mutsuki, and he shook his head. "Honestly, be glad you never got to meet him. I like Amon, but Mado was really creepy."

Mutsuki grimaced. "Noted," he sighed.

Kaneki left Mutsuki with that, feeling overwhelmingly grimy. His skin was uncomfortably oily, and his hair was unwashed and curling. He didn't want to think about it too much, because if it did, he'd end up peeling his skin off in the shower trying to scrub all the filth from his pores. The only trouble was, showering basically set him up for thinking way too much.

He didn't want to think right now. He didn't want to think at all.

All he wanted was a way to turn it all off. Wanting to be numb was almost as bad as actually being numb.

Wasn't that how it went? Feeling so much that all you wanted was to just turn it all off? And then when you could no longer feel a goddamn thing, you became desperate. Desperate and self-destructive and pining for the emotions you'd lost.

So much had happened all at once. He was feeling too much and nothing at all. I have to find a ghoul to infiltrate a ghoul organization, he thought under the mild pressure of his shower head. The water was plastering his hair to the back of his neck and his forehead. He lowered his face into his hands, the hot water slipping through the crevices and into his eyes. The truth trickled through his fingers and into his tear ducts.

"Aogiri," he whispered, lifting his hands shaking from his face and gaping at the water pooling at his feet.

Holy shit.

Holy shit!

Yoshitoki wanted Kaneki to find someone to infiltrate the Aogiri Tree! That was fucking insane! Kaneki had seen what happened to low ranking ghouls involved with the organization, and only someone really fucking desperate would subject themselves to that!

On one hand, this was his chance to prove to the CCG that some ghouls could be trusted. On the other hand, what the fuck was he supposed to do? Walk into Anteiku and see who wanted to volunteer for this incredibly dangerous job?

Why would he put the people he loved in danger like that? They were why he was even doing this in the first place!

He wanted to scream. He might have. If Mutsuki hadn't been in the next room, he would have.

Kaneki turned the water off and stood for a few moments, his teeth clenched tight to keep any sort of desperate sound from coming from his mouth. He covered it for good measure, squeezing his eyes shut and exhaling sharply. This was so fucked up. A ghoul spy. A ghoul spying for the CCG on other ghouls. For what? Amnesty? Immunity? Could that even be a reality?

The CCG protecting ghouls?

Could that be a future in sight?

And if it was, then was it really worth the risk?

Could the CCG even be trusted to keep their word?

God, this was all fucked up.

He dried himself off hastily, his movements mechanical and his limbs still shaky. He thought he might have another panic attack. That scared him. He didn't want that to happen again.

As he was pulling on his sweatpants, he heard the door slam from the other room. He paused, listening carefully as there was silence. And then, without warning, there was an assortment of shouts, and a crashing noise.

"Kaneki!"

He bolted from the bathroom, skidding out into the living room and finding himself freezing in shock.

Mutsuki was half sprawled on the floor, a small knife clutched defensively in his fist. Only a yard or so away, Hide was sitting on his legs, rubbing his head irritably. While Mutsuki looked absolutely terrified, Hide's expression was merely a small frown, as if having a knife pointed at him was a slight inconvenience.

"What the hell...?" Kaneki breathed.

Both their heads snapped toward him. Hide's face lit up.

"Kaneki!" he cried, straightening up and clapping his hands against his knees. "You're home! Listen, buddy, this runt over here, he hit me over the head with a book! Can you believe that? A book!"

"Kaneki, you…" Mutsuki's expression was wilting with his resolve as he grimaced at Hide. "You… know this guy…?"

"Uh, hi?" Hide waved dramatically. "Nagachika Hideyoshi. Hello? Kaneki's best friend ever? I should be asking the questions here! Who are you, small child?"

"I'm… not a child…?" Mutsuki's cheeks flushed deeply, turning his dark skin a deep rosy tint, and Kaneki nearly laughed. Slowly, Mutsuki lowered the knife. "I'm sorry I attacked you. I… I didn't realize. I'm very sorry, please forgive me!" Mutsuki seemed frantic. Damn. He'd even bolted up straight just to send himself into a bow.

Hide stared at Mutsuki blankly.

"Oh," he said, shooting a sharp glance at Kaneki. "Jeez. Listen, I was just messing with you. You don't have to apologize. I guess I did seem kinda threatening, since I had to pick the lock."

"You picked my lock?" Kaneki sighed. "Did you think to maybe knock?"

"I personally had no idea you were even home, like I thought this kid was just a squatter, to be honest?" Hide shot Mutsuki a sheepish smile. "No offense, it's not that you look like a squatter."

Mutsuki stared at him. His visible eye was very big. Very alarmed.

"Okay, please stop talking," Kaneki gasped, wincing at how Mutsuki's body language had changed. He was instantly just shrinking back into himself. "I'm going to go put a shirt on. Mutsuki, please put the knife back where you found it."

"O-okay…" Mutsuki sounded small and scared. "I'm sorry…"

"It's okay."

"It's okay that he almost skewered me?" Hide shouted after Kaneki. "Um, rude!"

By the time Kaneki snatched a shirt and shrugged it on, Hide was already sprawled on the couch, chatting amiably to Mutsuki as though Mutsuki weren't completely closing up, like a hermit crab retreated into its shell.

"—'cause usually, y'know, the spare key is above the door, so I just use that. But it wasn't there today, so, naturally, I picked the lock."

"If he does that again while you're here, Mutsuki, call the police," Kaneki said calmly as he entered the room. Hide's neck arched back against the armrest of the couch, and he pouted.

"You know I can't do prison, Kaneki," Hide said glumly. "I'm too much of a hipster! Do you know what'll happen if some buff prison dude takes one look at my bleached hair? He'll be like, I bet that kid is really crafty! I'll get him to do all my chores!"

"Hide… that's not… how prison…" Kaneki sighed. Why? Why did he even bother?

"So are you going to introduce us?" Hide launched himself upright, and he smiled at Mutsuki. This time the smile was warm and welcoming.

"Um… Hide, this is Mutsuki Tooru," Kaneki said slowly. "We're working together at the CCG. Oh, and he's going to live here for a little while."

"Here?" Hide blinked rapidly, and he glanced around the room. "How… is that going to work, exactly?"

"It'll be fine," Kaneki said firmly. "Don't worry. I've got this, okay?"

"If you say so."

When Mutsuki excused himself to take a shower, there was a blanket of silence between Kaneki and Hide. They both knew that this living situation was going to get cramped, but Hide did not bring it up again, and Kaneki was grateful. He didn't want Mutsuki to feel any worse about this. It wasn't his fault that the CCG had thrust him unprepared into the adult world. The boy was fifteen years old! The CCG seriously expected him to just be able to find a place to live on the fly like this? Kaneki had barely been able to function when he'd found himself trying to set up shelter somewhere other than his aunt's home.

And the city wasn't exactly kind to homeless kids.

"First of all," Hide started, taking a deep breath. "I'm really glad to see you. Like, seriously. I saw you losing hope back there, so it's nice to see you happy again."

Was Kaneki happy? He hadn't really noticed, but he supposed this level of contentment could be considered happiness.

"Second of all." Hide tilted his head. "What the hell happened?"

Kaneki sighed, and he closed his eyes. He sat down in the chair across from Hide, raking his hands through his wet hair. "Where do I begin…" He looked down at his lap, and he found himself shaken once more by the revelation of Yoshitoki's proposal. "Mutsuki… is like me."

"I noticed," Hide said flatly.

Kaneki glanced at Hide sharply. He merely smiled vacantly, and jerked his chin, prompting Kaneki to continue. "Apparently he was a student at the CCG's Academy. Like, their school for training investigators. So the CCG was offering kids to participate in this project, and if they could successfully complete it, they'd be able to become an investigator early."

"Are you saying they experimented… on kids…?" Hide's expression twisted slightly, a tight grimace appearing on his lips. "That doesn't sound right. Are you sure…?"

"Yeah, I'm sure." Kaneki pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling as though he were about to get a terrible migraine. "Mutsuki didn't have anywhere to go. It's not fair at all. They turned him into a weapon, and then they let him fend for himself in Tokyo when he's still just a kid."

"Kaneki," Hide said gently. "You know you're still a kid too, right?"

"I'm ni— not that young," Kaneki snapped, catching himself quickly. "He's fifteen. And he's all alone in the world with powers he can't possibly understand yet. What was I supposed to do?"

Hide leaned forward, folding his hands over his mouth and staring vacantly into nothing. His warm brown eyes were glazed and distant, focused on something beyond this room and reaching far off to a point where not even Kaneki could grasp it.

"Were they trying to get rid of you?" Hide asked suddenly, his eyes flashing to Kaneki's face fearfully.

Kaneki sat in a stunned sort of silence. Well, technically, yes. They had been. But it hadn't worked very well.

"I'm still here, aren't I?" Kaneki smiled sheepishly. "Don't think about it like that. Mutsuki had no idea I even existed until today."

"I don't blame him, or anything." Hide glanced at Kaneki's bedroom door, and his eyes softened. "Poor kid. Is the eye thing like yours?"

"I assume as much."

"Damn." Hide looked tired. That was something even Kaneki could notice about him, something clear in the way he quickly brushed his slightly swollen eyelid. His face was paler than usual, and even though his smile reached his eyes, Kaneki was beginning to suspect that was all completely fake. Something was up. Hide was clearly really stressed out, and he wasn't saying anything.

Well, Kaneki had been locked up for awhile. He supposed that was pretty damn distressing.

"I've got it!" Hide gasped, snapping his fingers. He looked at Kaneki, and he beamed. "I'll be his mom!"

Kaneki sat placidly, an empty smile sitting on his lips as he tried to process Hide's words. He glanced away sharply, decidedly keeping his comments to himself.

"What?" Hide whined, leaning forward. "I'm serious! He's a teenage boy, do you honestly think you've got what it takes to mom him? No fucking way, man!" Hide straightened up, and he looked overwhelmingly smug. "Nah, he needs a positive influence in his life. Bro, I love you, but you're about as positive as an animal shelter commercial."

"I'm actually really offended by that," Kaneki murmured.

"And plus you're like his mentor, right? Isn't that like a dad thing?"

"I don't know."

"Well, traditionally it's the dad who is really serious and goes to work and is there for the kid to look up to." Hide looked up at the ceiling. "Yeah. That sounds about right."

"You're ridiculous."

"Someone's gotta make sure he doesn't starve to death!" Hide leaned back in his seat, and he grinned broadly. Then his smile fell. "Oh. Shit, he can't eat normal food."

"No, he can." Kaneki shook his head. He didn't really understand it. "Apparently he's different from me somehow, so he doesn't have a ghoul's appetite."

"Oh, cool, so he really is going to starve to death." Hide's stare was actually half terrified. "This poor kid... Kaneki, you're tearing this family apart."

"Whenever I talk to you," Kaneki sighed, "I feel like I need to sleep for ten thousand years."

"Because you're that hyped to see me?" Hide laughed, jerking a finger at Kaneki's face. "Huh? Huh?"

"Not really."

Mutsuki decided to walk out at that moment, thankfully, so Kaneki was saved from Hide's faux hysterics. Immediately Hide jumped up, rushing to Mutsuki's side and catching him by the shoulders, not even minding the sharp shriek the boy let out as he was yanked into a hug.

"Don't worry, Mutsuki, son of mine, I won't let Kaneki starve you!"

"W-what?"

"Hide, let go of him," Kaneki sighed, wincing a little. Mutsuki looked mildly terrified, but mostly super uncomfortable, like he would cut off a limb to get out of this situation.

"Ah, sorry." Hide released Mutsuki quickly, looking sheepish. "You really are like Kaneki, huh? Don't you like hugs?"

Mutsuki seemed to recoil, and Kaneki felt angry on his behalf. "Hide, stop teasing him!"

"Ah!" Hide seemed to take note of Mutsuki's clear discomfort, and he waved his hands hurriedly. "Sorry! I'm sorry! That was really insensitive, you don't know me at all."

"It's…" Mutsuki hugged his stomach, his eye cast down toward the floor. "It's okay."

Hide stared at him, and he sighed. "No," he said. "It really isn't. I didn't mean to scare you. Are you okay?"

Mutsuki gave a jerky nod.

Hide and Kaneki shared a glance. What a blatant lie.

Kaneki was growing more and more concerned for Mutsuki's well-being. He was so jittery and scared, and Kaneki understood why, but at the same time he sensed that he was missing something.

"Why don't you sit down, Mutsuki," Kaneki said, standing up and walking toward the kitchenette. Mutsuki was merely frozen in the doorway of Kaneki's room, completely stunned and mostly terrified. "Do you want coffee?"

"Bro, do you even know what time it is?"

Kaneki sighed. He glanced back at Hide. "Late?" he offered.

"Way too late to have coffee." Hide shook his head furiously. "Nah, man, make some tea."

"Tea?" Kaneki grimaced. "In my house?"

"No wonder you're always so sad," Hide snickered, flopping back onto the couch. "Do you have anything in this apartment? Like anything substantial at all?"

"Um…" Kaneki didn't bother checking the fridge. He knew there was nothing in there. He looked in a few cupboards, and he pulled out a box of cereal.

"Lemme see," Hide said, offering out his hands. Kaneki tossed the box to him. As Hide examined the box, Kaneki continued to rummage. "Ew, this is super bland. Do you at least have sugar and milk?"

"I have sugar…" Kaneki found his sugar cup, and he glanced into it. There was a pretty dismal amount of sugar clumped at the bottom. "Never mind."

"Do you understand why I'm concerned you might starve here, Mutsuki?" Hide tutted softly. "Kaneki's a real mess."

"I'll go grocery shopping tomorrow…" He closed the pantry, feeling guilty for not being able to feed his guests. He hadn't known that this was going to happen! But still, it was his own fault for getting locked in Cochlea again. He felt like such a fool.

"It's okay, Kaneki," Mutsuki said gently from the floor beside the table. The air was suddenly filled with munching. Hide had shoved a mouthful of bran flakes into his mouth.

Kaneki wished he could afford an alarm system so Hide couldn't pull bullshit like this anymore.

In the back of his mind, he was aware of how selfish he was.

But he was happy like this. Happiness didn't come easily, so he relished in this moment.

It turned out that Mutsuki, unlike any other teenager Kaneki knew, rose with the fucking sun. Now, Kaneki didn't consider himself a lazy person, but he certainly didn't wake up early enough to watch light creep in through the window. Well, not willingly, anyway.

Mutsuki didn't know Kaneki was awake. He hadn't slept much— and it wasn't because he was sleeping on the couch. The couch was far comfier than what he was used to at this point. It was simply the foreign atmosphere of home that wired his brain to stay awake, stay alert, to never let his guard down. It felt terrible. He just wanted some fucking sleep.

Kaneki listened to Mutsuki move around inside his room. He wasn't being loud or anything, but Kaneki had tuned into the sound of soft shuffling, feet padding against the floor, a bed being made. As Kaneki continued to listen, he found that the sounds eventually stopped. He didn't know how long he listened for. He was waiting for more light to pool into the room, mostly.

Finally, he pushed himself upright. He knew he probably looked terrible. Like a zombie. Not too far off, he mused.

Kaneki had to muster up some courage to knock on the door. He did it, but he felt a strange surge of instant regret.

There was a moment of silence. It rung inside his ears, and made his nerves dance.

The door swung open slowly. Mutsuki's big, dark eye gleamed up at him.

"Good morning," he murmured. He was already dressed, his hair combed as neatly as possible considering how choppy it was. He wore a dark blazer and dress pants, presumably the nicest thing he owned.

"Morning." Kaneki tilted his head, and he smiled weakly. "What time did you wake up?"

"Um, just a little while ago," Mutski said sheepishly, stepping aside so Kaneki could walk in. "It's… still pretty early. We don't have to be at work for a few more hours."

"True." Kaneki rifled through his drawers. He'd ruined his last suit. What was he going to do now? "I was thinking we'd get breakfast, though, since I haven't got anything here to eat."

"Oh!" Mutsuki gasped. His voice had brightened considerably, and when Kaneki looked at his face, he saw excitement glowing there. He thought, perhaps, that this might be the first time he was seeing Mutsuki excited. "That sounds fun."

"Yeah!" Kaneki smiled. He was happy that Mutsuki was so thrilled by something as ordinary as getting breakfast out. "Do you like sweets and stuff?"

"You mean like… cake?" Mutsuki offered a small shrug. "It depends what kind, I guess."

"Understandable." Kaneki tossed a white shirt onto his bed, and he dug through his drawer for a pair of pants. "What about coffee?"

"I like coffee."

"Great!" Kaneki yanked a pair of trousers from his drawer and straightened up. "I know a really nice place not too far from here. Hide and I go there a lot."

He wanted to establish his connection to Anteiku early so Mutsuki wouldn't be suspicious later on if Kaneki ended up there somehow. Also, Kaneki felt the need to go visit and see how things were doing.

They ended up walking quietly, Mutsuki's gaze wandering around the city as they went. It was a big city, so doubtless this was a new place and a new experience for him. That must have been exciting. Kaneki wondered what happened between the ages of fifteen and nineteen when the world lost its glow, and being exposed to something new lost its charm.

"What was the ghoul hunting school like?" Kaneki asked suddenly. He just wanted to break the silence.

Mutsuki had been smiling when he'd turned his face to Kaneki, but his eye was sad. "You're pretty insistent with the "ghoul hunting" thing," he said with a small laugh. It made Kaneki smile regardless. "Um, it was… I don't know. It was fine."

Kaneki knew Mutsuki was lying, but he decided not to press the issue.

"What about college?" Mutsuki asked eagerly. "How was that?"

Kaneki laughed right back. "Oh," he gasped, glancing away sharply. "Uh… stressful. Not gonna lie."

"Isn't school always, though?"

Kaneki snorted, and he nodded slowly. "Honestly, yeah." He missed school, but at the same time he didn't miss school at all. How awful. "I guess now that I think about it, school was always really shitty. I like learning new things, but I hated the pressure."

"I get that," Mutsuki murmured.

They stopped before Anteiku's doors, and Mutsuki stared as Kaneku held the door open for him. "What?" Kaneki asked when Mutsuki hesitated.

"N-nothing," Mutsuki gasped. "It's just a really nice place. That's all."

Kaneki felt a kind of swell of pride for Anteiku that was probably misplaced, since he didn't exactly work there anymore. Touka was working, which made him pause to think. Was it a Sunday? Shit.

"Hello, Touka," Kaneki said politely. She was watching him with a dull expression, but he could tell she wanted to beat the shit out of him. It hurt a little, but he was too glad to see her to really care.

"Two?" she asked mechanically.

"Yeah…"

"Take a seat."

Kaneki stared at her as Mutsuki went ahead to sit down. She stared back. Her eyes narrowed dangerously. He offered her a weak smile, and he followed Mutsuki to a table. Being in here made nostalgia creep back. Also, it hit him like a punch in a gut that the last time he'd been here, he'd failed to save Ryouko.

"Are you okay?"

Kaneki looked up at Mutsuki sharply. He looked worried.

"Fine," Kaneki said, shaking his head. "Just thinking. Anyway, order whatever you want!"

"Um… okay." Mutsuki blinked rapidly as Kaneki shoved a menu into his hands. "What are you getting?"

"Oh." Kaneki hadn't thought that far ahead. He twisted in his chair. "Touka, what's the special today?"

She glanced at him sharply. "A red eye," she said cautiously, as though she feared she might snap something rude at him.

"What's that?" Mutsuki whispered.

"It's just coffee with a shot of espresso," Kaneki replied.

"Oh."

"Make sure you eat something as well," Kaneki reminded. "I feel bad."

"Why would you feel bad?" Mutsuki gasped, leaning back abruptly. "I… I mean, honestly, Kaneki, you've been so kind to me, I… I feel like I owe you a lot."

"Aha… no." Kaneki stared at Mutsuki. "Seriously. No. Don't think you owe me for anything. You really don't."

"O-okay…"

"Are you two ready to order?" Touka was careful not to look impatient, but Kaneki could tell she was pissed at him. She just had to put on a nice face for the other customers. She was so good at her job, it was really astounding.

"I'll have the special," Kaneki said. It felt so weird to order things here. He wanted to make the coffee himself. He ached for it, really.

"I'll just have a cappuccino," Mutsuki said quietly. Kaneki stared at him expectantly as Touka wrote that down. "Ah! Uh… um, and… and…"

"Ah, can you please just get him a pastry? Cake, or whatever you're serving today?" Kaneki really felt weird doing this. The last time he'd made an order to Touka, he'd set in motion that terrible date with Rize. It felt like so long ago. Another life.

And it had been.

That was so strange to think about.

"Sure," Touka said. She glanced at Mutsuki. "Is that okay?"

"Y-yes! Thank you!"

Touka watched him. Her brow furrowed, and she nodded curtly. She then set to work behind the counter. Mutsuki immediately relaxed. Then he glanced up at Kaneki confusedly.

"Are you not going to eat something?" he asked innocently.

Kaneki smiled, and he looked down at his hands. Mutsuki immediately realized his mistake, and he gasped, clamping his hands over his mouth.

"I'm so sorry," he blurted, jerking back. "Oh. Oh no, I'm so sorry, I forgot—I—"

"Mutsuki." Kaneki leaned forward, watching Mutsuki with a long, sad stare. "Please calm down. I'm not angry. I'm not going to get angry at you. Please don't be so nervous around me."

The boy merely stared at him. If possible, he tensed up more, shrinking back into himself as if he simply could not bear to be here any longer, to be in this constant state of fear. Yes. That was what this was. Fear.

Mutsuki was terrified of him.

Why hadn't Kaneki realized this sooner?

"I'm sorry," Kaneki said, sinking into his chair. His eyes were wide. This was awful. He felt like he'd been punched in the gut. And it was his own goddamn fault, too. He'd been scary! He couldn't even blame Mutsuki for being inherently frightened, because his first impression of Kaneki had been of him lashing out. How shitty was that?

"What?" Mutsuki gasped. "What are you apologizing to me for?"

"You're scared of me," Kaneki sighed, "right?"

Mutsuki seemed to freeze up. "No… no, that's not…" He wasn't looking at Kaneki. His eye was wide, and he looked confused. Like maybe he hadn't even realized it himself. "Oh… oh."

"I get it." Kaneki offered a smile. "I know I can be scary. But I'd never intentionally scare you, and I definitely will never hurt you. So please don't be scared anymore. Okay?"

Mutsuki stared. Quickly, he nodded, and he managed a weak smile. "Okay," he said, his body slowly relaxing. "Um… I'm really sorry. It's not that you're scary. You're really, really nice. I think I… I'm just not used to that. I've been trying to figure out why, exactly, you know… you decided to do this for me." Mutsuki lowered his eyes. He looked suddenly very tired. "I thought that there must be something in it for you."

Even though it hurt that Mutsuki had distrusted him from the very beginning, Kaneki appreciated that Mutsuki was telling him this. He felt like it was a step forward, in the right direction, and that Mutsuki would definitely open up from here. That was such a relief.

However, this was probably the biggest difference Kaneki could pinpoint between himself and Mutsuki.

See, Kaneki never suspected anyone of having an ulterior motive. That was how he'd come to be here in the first place. But Mutsuki was so wary, so careful, and that was probably a wiser way to live life. After all, Kaneki had gotten himself into some shit because of his gullibility.

"I really don't want anything from you," Kaneki said blankly. "Honestly, I wish it wasn't this awkward. We're total strangers. But we have to work together. And, hopefully everything will work out." And the CCG doesn't kill me after you figure out how to release your kagune, he thought, glancing away.

Touka came around and set their coffees down. "The cake will be a little while longer," she said, straightening up. "It hasn't been made yet."

"Ah, I'm sorry…" Mutsuki sighed.

"No, don't be." Touka smiled at him, which caused him to stare at her in wonder. "We had to make it anyway, so don't worry. Also, Kaneki, the manager wants to speak with you."

"Huh?" Mutsuki glanced at Kaneki bemusedly. "Manager?"

"Right." Kaneki nodded to her, ignoring Mutsuki's blatant confusion. "Can I head up any time, then? Or does it have to be this very minute?"

"Listen," she sighed, glancing around the shop. "I'm saying this off record. I, personally, do not care when you go. But knowing the manager, your coffee won't be warm when you get back."

He cracked a grin at her. "Noted," he said brightly. She looked at him, and for a moment she looked almost curious. Then she turned around, and she walked back to the counter without another word.

"You know the manager?" Mutsuki asked in awe. "Do you really come here that often?"

"Ah…" Kaneki laughed nervously. "The manager owns the building. I know a few people who live here, so it's not that weird."

He had to convince Mutsuki that this wasn't weird. Because it was. It was really weird. Suspicious, even? He didn't know. He didn't want to know. He was scared something might happen because he brought Mutsuki here, but he didn't think there was anything bad about Mutsuki. He was such a nice kid! Right?

But then again, Kaneki had a bad habit of trusting the wrong people.

He took a sip of his coffee, and he tried to smile and pass it all off as fine. Mutsuki seemed smarter than that, though. Like he was reading right through Kaneki's lies.

As they continued to drink their coffees, Kaneki tentatively changed to subject to novels. Mutsuki seemed happy to jump in and offer his own favorites, which were mostly classics. That made Kaneki happy to hear, and he thought about bringing up Takatsuki Sen, but he considered that might be a little too much for Mutsuki.

"When I was little I used to read this weird old American series," Mutsuki said, smiling down at his mug. "It was a bunch of mystery books."

"Goosebumps?"

"Ah, no, that was creepy," Mutsuki laughed uneasily. "No… noo…" Mutsuki covered his face. "Those gave me nightmares!"

"I always thought they were really funny…"

"No way," Mutsuki groaned. "They were so weird. My brother had the American editions, and the covers were…" Mutsuki paused, falling completely silent and staring down at his hands. "Oh. I remember now, it was The Hardy Boys."

"Never heard of it." Kaneki was surprised, honestly. He wanted to know more.

"Oh. It was like, um…" Mutsuki bounced his head from side to side. "Nancy Drew? But the, uh, "boy" version, or whatever…" Mutsuki used air quotations, looking a little puzzled. "I read Nancy Drew too, but there were more Hardy Boys books. I liked both. Oh, and Sherlock Holmes, I loved Sherlock Holmes."

"It sounds like you were setting yourself up to become a detective," Kaneki said amusedly. Mutsuki flushed, and he thumbed the sides of his mug, looking sheepish.

"They were mostly my brother's books," Mutsuki murmured. "I just read them and ended up liking them a whole lot."

Kaneki didn't want to ask. He knew what it was like to lose loved ones, and he could hear the sadness in Mutsuki's voice. But Kaneki didn't care. He didn't care what had happened to Mutsuki's brother, or why he was on his own, floundering in an adult world when he was still so young and defenseless.

Because Mutsuki was opening up to him.

That was the thing that mattered.

"I better run upstairs real quick," Kaneki said. "You still have to eat, so is it okay if I…?"

"Yeah." Mutsuki smiled, and for once he looked comfortable. "Go ahead. I'll be here."

"Thanks. I'll be right back!" He made eye contact with Touka as he rounded the counter. She shot him an irritated glance, and she went back to wiping down the counter with a rag.

He felt strange as he walked up the stairwell. Like he'd done this all before. And the weirdest part was for once, he hadn't. Mutsuki was completely new. He was a variable that he hadn't anticipated. And for once, that wasn't a bad thing. Well, maybe it was a little shitty for Mutsuki himself, but at least the boy could still eat normally for now. That was a relief.

Kaneki was sad that this had happened, but he couldn't blame Mutsuki for existing. It'd be hypocritical.

"Kaneki." He was caught by the shoulder as he'd made his way down a hall. "Touka told me you were here, but I couldn't quite believe it."

He turned around, and he smiled weakly. "Here I am," he said, offering a small shrug. "Surprise. I'm alive."

"Well I didn't doubt that." Yoshimura smiled down at him. "Come, let's sit down and talk."

"Yeah…" Kaneki knew that would be for the best. Especially with the news he had. He didn't even know if he was doing the right thing. But he figured Yoshimura could do with the information what he wanted. It wasn't Kaneki's place to make the call.

He settled into a seat across from his old manager, watching the man's wizened face as he folded his hands in his lap.

"I'd like to begin by thanking you," Yoshimura said, looking so terribly earnest. His gray brows knitted together, and he closed his eyes. "The amount of courage it must have taken to stand up to those investigators astounds me. You are a very brave young man, Kaneki."

It made him slightly uncomfortable to be praised, especially considering he'd done nothing in the end but land himself in Cochlea. But it was nice anyway, to hear Yoshimura sound so proud of him.

"That's really kind of you," Kaneki said, "but I couldn't save Ryouko. I… I tried, sir, I really—"

"I am fully aware of that," Yoshimura said calmly. "I appreciate your honesty, but truly, if you had told me the situation beforehand, I would have advised against taking action." He smiled wanly. "You are a braver man than I am."

"Please don't say that…" Kaneki was filled with thoughts of the Aogiri and Anteiku raids, and he knew that was not true at all. But Yoshimura would never believe that.

"As for your decision to trust Nagachika," Yoshimura said, his smile turning oddly fond, "I'll commend you. He's been consistently helpful after the past few weeks. Hinami adores him."

Kaneki perked up hopefully. "She does?"

"She's been asking after you quite a lot." Yoshimura was nodding. "Though by the looks of it, you're on your way to work. You should stop by later, if you can. She's been very sad, and I think seeing you might cheer her up."

"I…" Kaneki had wanted to avoid coming here. He'd wanted to build up a wall between himself and Anteiku to keep it safe. No matter the cost. Why couldn't he do that? Why was it so hard? "I'll visit her as soon as I can. But, sir, I actually have some interesting news." Kaneki looked away. "I'm not sure how to handle it. It's… what I wanted, but I can't help but feel wary of it."

Yoshimura straightened up. "Please," he said, nodding curtly. "Tell me."

Kaneki took a deep breath. "When I was released from Cochlea, I was taken to the CCG's headquarters. The main one in the first ward. I met with the Director of the CCG, who… I managed to get alone. And I talked to him." Kaneki's brow furrowed as he recalled the eccentric man. Washuu Yoshitoki. Where to even start with him… "And he listened. He actually considered the idea of integrating ghouls within the CCG."

"Ghouls?" Yoshimura sounded plainly shocked. "In the CCG?"

"It sounds insane, I know, but look at me!" Kaneki's eyes widened. "I'm here. I'm still here, in spite of everything… in spite of going rogue and defending Ryouko, I'm still alive. It might just be because I'm useful, but it's still something."

"I'm not entirely sure what you're saying," Yoshimura stated, leaning back in his chair. "One person in the CCG who possibly wants to make a drastic change is not enough to initiate it."

"He might be, if he's the Director." Kaneki stared into Yoshimura's eyes. He exhaled sharply. "Listen, I know how this sounds. It's ridiculous. It's dangerous. But this man told me that if I could find a ghoul willing to be a spy for the CCG, he'd hire them."

"A spy?" Yoshimura seemed to relax a little. "Well that's far less concerning. Tell me more about that."

"I wasn't given any real details," Kaneki said cautiously. "But I'm pretty sure it has to do with an organization called the Aogiri Tree."

Yoshimura frowned deeply. He averted his gaze, looking somber. "I see," he said. "A spy to feed information. I've heard rumors of this Aogiri Tree, but I never thought I'd have to address it myself."

"They're dangerous." Kaneki stared into Yoshimura's face. He leaned forward insistently. "I'm not saying that as a dove, I'm saying that as a ghoul. They're not helping anyone. They're just needlessly violent and cruel."

"There are ghouls like that, Kaneki," Yoshimura admitted, "but it is not wise to judge an entire group by a few bad examples."

A shudder ran through him.

Was he beginning to think like a ghoul investigator?

Or was it just because he hated the Aogiri Tree with everything in him? Which, albeit, was not entirely that much. But it was just fucking enough. Just enough.

"You're right," Kaneki murmured. "I'm sorry."

"I'll have someone look into this Aogiri Tree," Yoshimura said. "And then we will decide if it is in our best interest to pursue this. Aiding the CCG in taking down a massive organization could be catastrophic for Anteiku."

Another shudder shot through him, and he realized how blind he was.

By pursuing this mindless goal, by trying so hard to convince everyone around him that ghouls weren't all bad, he might just end up exactly where he started.

Lying in a bed of corpse with Anteiku crumbling to dust, and a sword piercing through his eye and into his brain and out the back of his skull.

Would he ever learn?

"He said he'd consider immunity," Kaneki murmured, "but I'm not sure how serious that is. I can't tell if I trust him."

"This man is clearly very intelligent," Yoshimura sighed. "Whoever he is, he knew immediately that for this plan to work, he could not use you. That would solve his problems very simply. No, he knows that any ghoul would be able to tell you're half human if you were around them for long enough. So he turns to an unconventional option." Yoshimura looked exhausted, but strangely curious. "To entrust a ghoul. I see. It would be a gamble on both sides. So if the spy pulls through with the best intel they could give, logically this man should pull through with granting immunity." Yoshimura chuckled to himself, and he closed his eyes peacefully. "But that's merely wishful thinking. There's no telling if it would actually work."

"Unless we tried it," Kaneki murmured.

Yoshimura glanced at him. He smiled. "Yes," he admitted. "Unless we tried."

Kaneki excused himself after that. He'd said what he'd had to say, and now he had to get himself and Mutsuki to work before Amon found them and…? Kaneki didn't know. He doubted he'd be getting a bullet this time though.

Walking down the stairs, inhaling the overwhelming scent of freshly ground coffee beans, he was hit with another bout of nostalgia. He remembered Touka chiding him in the kitchen, yanking on his ear and lecturing him about the proper beans to use and when and how. He remembered sparring with her below the street, the endlessly achy days and the determination he'd felt. He remembered it all going sour, and he remembered another life, with Hinami and Banjou and Tsukiyama. Trying their best. To do what? What had that even amounted to? In the end?

Even though it felt like he was amounting to a zero sum, he missed it.

He wished he could go back again. He just wanted to see everyone. For them to see him, and remember.

As he pushed open the door and walked into the shop, he was struck frozen for a moment. He remembered his conversation with Mutsuki about Goosebumps, about the eerie surrealism locked inside short, spooky little tales. He remembered his favorite story.

Be Careful What You Wish For…

The last thing he'd wanted was to see Tsukiyama Shuu sitting across from Mutsuki, his elbow resting on the table and his chin sitting in his palm.

Chapter Text

It was easy to fall into old rhythms when old memories came bubbling up like blood from beneath a freshly picked scab. She was becoming irritable lately, impatient and ready to fight at the drop of a hat. She felt like she needed to be on the defensive consistently, like she wasn't living for herself but for the empty bed across from hers.

The bed wasn't empty anymore though. When she woke up from a usual nightmare, gasping and jittery, her eyes sliding to the other bed on reflex, she found a little lump bundled beneath the blankets.

And she relaxed, because even though Hinami was not the person that she'd wanted to see, seeing her was comforting.

"Touka?" Hinami didn't raise her head. She merely opened her eyes, big and dark in the shadows of the room. They reflected the gaping contrasts of the streetlights shimmering through the window and the blacks and grays that skittered across the floor. When Hinami spoke, it sent the shadows scattering, and Touka allowed herself to slump.

"I'm okay, Hinami," Touka told the girl gently. "Go back to sleep."

It hadn't even been a nightmare. It had just been a hazy memory.

She thought about it now, her heels molding into the soles of her shoes, coffee burning the hair out of her nose, customers streaming in and out and leaving her instinctively numb. She watched people brush by her, but if any of them looked into her eyes they'd find the reflection of two kids stumbling through Anteiku's front door staring back at them.

She'd been fourteen. Ayato had been twelve.

They hadn't been hurt badly. She remembered Ayato chiding her that they'd heal up fast, that Old Man Yoshimura never had to know. But they'd tracked blood into Anteiku. Ayato's arm was draped over her shoulders as she dragged him through the empty café, his bloody leg trailing behind him. She remembered how his fingers dug into her collarbone, his nails biting against her jacket. His head lolled, and he'd groaned.

"This was your fault," Ayato had grumbled. "Why'd you retreat?"

"Because I realized we were fucking outmatched, stupid," Touka had snapped through gritted teeth, readjusting her grip so she was gathering him beneath the arms. "Knowing when to bow out is smarter than fighting tooth and nail, barely scraping by, and never accomplishing anything before you die."

"What do you know about death?" Ayato had sneered, his eyes snapping furiously at her face. "You always do this! Why are you so afraid of being strong?"

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean?" Touka dragged him toward the steps. It had been a struggle to yank the door open, she remembered. She'd been grappling with Ayato's weight against her side, and she remembered the thoughts that had been whistling through her mind. He's getting too heavy for me to be carrying him, she'd thought, to be supporting him.

"You don't even try," he spat. "You just give up when it gets a little tough, a little gritty. Look at you! Your dress got a little dirty, your nose a little bloody, your lip a little bruised— and that's it. You didn't even fucking try."

"You got hurt," she'd hissed, throwing him a furious glare. "I'm doing this for you!"

"We could've beaten him back if you hadn't retreated," he'd said bitterly, his eyes filled with heat and hatred. "Coward."

"I'm going to drop you down the fucking stairs," she warned him, "and then you can really deal with Old Man Yoshimura."

"Go ahead," he dared her, his eyes raising to her face and flashing with undefinable heat. "I'll tell him the reason why I got hurt. 'Cause you're useless and slow and you can't even back me up."

"That's not true," Touka had hissed, feeling a pang of guilt even in spite of her own objection. "I backed off after you got hurt, because I needed to assess the situation. Fighting isn't just throwing yourself into a life or death situation, Ayato. Like, we didn't get into that fight with the intention of dying."

"No," he muttered, "we went in with the intention of winning."

Touka almost rolled her eyes. Sure, maybe they'd thought they could win at the start, but it became abundantly clear that they weren't going to win without some sacrifice. Once Ayato got hurt, Touka had decidedly thrown in the towel and dragged him out of it. Wasn't that what a good sister was supposed to do? Stop her dumb fucking younger brother from fucking himself up even worse?

If he hadn't been there, would she have kept fighting?

Probably.

They weren't so different. Not really.

They were both just bad kids.

In the end she helped him wrap his wound, kneeling on his bed with his leg in her lap. The bleeding would stop eventually, and it would heal in a day or two. He'd looked tired, reclining into a pillow and staring at her dully. He wasn't yelling anymore, as though he'd yelled himself out, as if perhaps he'd run out of things to yell at her for. She wondered if the pain had caught up to him, and now he was suffering silently, allowing her this small gift of intimacy just because he had no other choice.

He'd nodded off while she'd pinned his bandage into place. It felt nostalgic to put him to bed, like she was treading on old, rickety wood, the same panels that old heroes had treaded upon centuries before. Like she knew that the floor beneath her would give out at any moment, so she had to cherish the moments she had left standing.

She should've been trying to savor the time she had left. Wanting to protect Ayato was a foreign feeling now, even if it was pure and instinctual, so rooted within her that it reared its ugly head whenever she woke up.

And now she was living out her days wondering where the hell he went, or who the hell would care if he was gone for good.

"Sorry for the wait," she told the boy with the eyepatch as she set a slice of cake before him. She could smell it, and it made her stomach turn. "Is that all?"

"Um, yes." The boy looked sheepish. He watched his cake dully, and then he raised his eye back to her. "Are you Kaneki's friend?"

She resisted the urge to scoff. It was a very valiant effort, honestly, she should really be awarded with some grand honor or something.

"No," she said flatly. "I'm not."

"Really?" He looked so surprised. She sighed, and she hugged her elbows. The boy turned away, nodding curtly. "Ah. I see."

"Why?" She stood stiffly, glancing around the shop to make sure she wasn't needed elsewhere before starting this conversation she had a feeling she'd regret. "I mean, you probably know him better than I do."

"I only just met him," he admitted, lifting his fork without actually breaking into the cake. "I was hoping to get another person's… um, opinion, I guess?"

"He's a piece of work," Touka said. She knew she couldn't speak as if she knew Kaneki Ken, and she knew if she did she'd just say something bad, so she left her opinion at that.

The boy glanced at her nervously. Touka found herself a little guilty, and she sighed. "Listen," she told him in the kindest voice she could manage, "that guy may be a little strange, but he's not a bad person. Whatever you're nervous about, just forget about it. You're probably worrying over nothing."

And with that, she turned sharply on her heel and strode back to the counter. She wondered, wiping down her workspace, who she'd really been talking to just now. That boy with the eyepatch, or herself?

It was annoying. She didn't want to like or befriend Kaneki, but at the same time she couldn't just dismiss his efforts. He was trying very hard to make changes within the CCG. That was alarming in itself, someone who was willing to take such a risk, someone who continuously proved her wrong. She was exhausted of her own pessimism.

But it was so hard to change.

The boy ate the cake silently, and she watched dully. She assumed he was CCG, but at the same time she was wary. Why would that asshole bring an investigator here? God damn it, Kaneki was so confusing. Why couldn't he just pick a fucking side and stick with it?

She heard the door swing open, the quick tinkling bell going off sharply, and she turned instinctively, her hands resting against the counter as she leaned forward.

"Welcome…" She trailed off, her mouth clamping shut.

What was that saying? Speak of the devil and he shall come?

It was like the universe knew he'd passed her mind within the past twenty four hours, like just a glimmer of thought was enough to summon him from the fucking crypt he crawled out of.

"What a nice smell…" Tsukiyama closed his eyes as he lifted his chin, his nostrils flaring subtly as he inhaled the scent of the coffee shop. His eyes slid open, and he leaned against the door leisurely, a knowing smile widening on his lips. "As I thought, this place has really calmed down."

Touka exhaled. She looked down at her hands against the countertop, and she watched her fingers slide sharply into fists.

He strode into the shop, holding up his hand and beaming at her. "Long time no see, Kirishima," he chirped.

Is this a joke, she thought numbly. Why is my life like this? Why is this asshole more frequent in my life than my fucking brother?

"Why are you here?" she asked flatly, glancing away from him sharply. She just wanted him to take a fucking hint.

"Oh no…" Tsukiyama was still smiling. She wasn't surprised, but she was distinctly unnerved. "Can't I just come here to see your faces for a little while?" He offered up a lofty sigh, as if contemplating which expensive Gucci jacket to buy, a dilemma truly for the ages. "Kirishima, you're as cold as ever. Well…" He shot her a look that he probably thought was suave or like, seductive or something, but in actuality it made her stomach clench up anxiously. It was the kind of feeling she got when she was wandering an unknown ward at night, all alone. The feeling before you were about to get jumped. "That's what's appealing about you, though."

She didn't even care that there were customers around at this point.

"You're so creepy, you smug bastard," she said dully, leaning away from the counter as he sidled up close. Could he just… not? Not do this? Not now, not when there were people around. As she was averting her gaze, she met the eye of the tiny boy that Kaneki had brought in. His singular eye was open wide, and she saw his fingers gripping his coat hem tightly. There was something strained about his positioning, as though he'd suddenly found himself under an immense amount of pressure.

Tsukiyama's eyes whisked to where hers had landed. The boy jerked back, as though he hadn't expected Tsukiyama to take notice to him.

"An eyepatch, huh?" Tsukiyama cocked his head. He patted the counter twice, tossing his bangs out of his eyes, and he let his smile become more subdued, less predatory. Of course. You don't catch prey with sugar that had already baked too long and had become caramelized. Even Tsukiyama, as ridiculous as he was, knew that. So he moved at calm pace, casual and smart. "That eyepatch is really cool! Is it a fashion statement?"

The boy stared at Tsukiyama. Self-consciously, his hand flew to his eyepatch, and he shrunk back a little. "Um," he said in a high, reedy voice. "No."

"Really?" Tsukiyama, subtle as he was, plopped right down across from the boy and rested his chin in his hand. "It looks so nice with your complexion though. You're hafu, right?" Tsukiyama smiled, leaning forward. Touka saw him angling his head back so his nose was pointed toward the boy. "How exotic."

"Tsukiyama," Touka warned. "Stop being creepy and rude. Get out of here already!"

Tsukiyama huffed softly, his eyes never leaving the boy's face. "You're completely inelegant…" he murmured. It made her blood boil. This guy. This guy—!

"So this is the humble home of the Kirishima siblings," he'd hummed once, the first time he'd ever walked into Anteiku, his hands in his pockets and his eyes raking hungrily around the coffee shop. Ayato, who'd been sitting on a stool beside Touka, still nursing his wounded leg, had nearly leapt at him. Touka had to hold him back. She couldn't stop him from yelling obscenities, though. And frankly, she hadn't wanted to.

"Um…" The boy was leaning away, his eyes darting anywhere that wasn't Tsukiyama's face. Touka didn't think he looked flustered or embarrassed. No, he looked uncomfortable. Maybe even frightened. Does he know Tsukiyama is a ghoul? Touka wondered, finding herself half leaning over the counter to snap at Tsukiyama once more.

The door beside the counter opened at that moment. Touka glanced at Kaneki as he stepped out the door and looked to the boy. Immediately Kaneki froze, his face falling. He looked as if he'd just walked into a funeral by accident.

The boy jumped to his feet upon seeing Kaneki, looking unbearably relieved. Tsukiyama blinked, glancing over his shoulder as Kaneki very slowly began to approach them. Touka was stunned at how suddenly the vibe had changed, like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

"Hey," she gasped, reaching over the counter and snagging Kaneki by the sleeve. He jerked to a stop, as though her nails were talons and they'd torn into his flesh. "You're gonna pay, right?"

His head was bowed. She couldn't see his face, but she could tell that he was having some sort of internal conflict that he couldn't resolve quickly enough to respond immediately. The boy had started forward tentatively.

"I can—" he began eagerly, sticking his hand into the pocket of his jacket.

"No way," Kaneki blurted, jolting out of whatever daze he'd been put in. The atmosphere of the room returned to somewhat normal. Kaneki retrieved his wallet from his pocket and handed Touka a card.

"Kaneki—!" the boy objected, looking a little guilty as he watched Touka swipe the card. She wanted to tell him that it hadn't even been that much, and that worrying about stuff like this would just make him stressed and uptight all the time. She didn't though.

"Touka," Kaneki said, his hand clapping against the boy's shoulder. He spoke her name with a thoughtless sort of familiarity, syllables falling off his tongue softly, fondly. Touka-chan didn't sound like a cat call coming from his lips as it did from Hide's. "I just remembered. Could you take Mutsuki upstairs to Hinami?"

Touka nearly laughed in disbelief. She nearly scoffed and asked why. Why the hell should she do that? But then she saw his eyes. He was staring at her with a hollowness to his gaze she felt like had never been there before. Like he was sad, and pleading, and he had no other choice but to beseech her, to hope for her mercy, hope she'd play along to whatever scheme this was. And it was a scheme, for sure.

She wasn't sure what he was trying to insinuate until his eyes slid back to the table. Tsukiyama had stood up, and was sort of just hovering behind them.

Ah.

Smart guy, she thought with mild praise. She nodded quickly, sliding Kaneki his card and receipt. "Yeah," she said. "Of course. Let me just get Irimi to come up front."

"What's this, Kirishima?" Tsukiyama called after her as she turned toward the kitchen. "You know it's the polite thing to make introductions between old and new friends!"

"We're not friends," Touka called back heatedly, her fists clenching at her sides. She could never tell with him— if he was really this deluded and blind, or if he just liked fucking with her. Maybe it was a mix of both? Jeez.

"What's happening out there?" Irimi asked amusedly, smirking at Touka as stomped into the kitchen.

"Tsukiyama showed up," Touka muttered. "Now I've gotta babysit this kid Kaneki dragged in."

"Kaneki?" Irimi stopped what she was doing— decorating another cake— and she splayed her icing stained hands. "Wait a minute. He got out of Cochlea? When did that happen?"

"Who knows?" Touka folded her arms across her chest. "I don't really care. But Tsukiyama's eying the kid— for god knows what reason. So I'm going to take the kid upstairs."

"Upstairs…?" Irimi wiped her hands off on her apron, and her eyes narrowed. "Why?"

Touka opened her mouth. She closed it immediately. She didn't know why. She hadn't asked. So she shrugged. "Beats me," she said. "But if it pisses of Tsukiyama, I'm all for it."

"You really shouldn't go looking for trouble," Irimi chuckled, brushing past her. Touka stood for a moment, watching her leave. She glanced around the kitchen, and she considered that this Mutsuki kid wasn't from the CCG. Was he a ghoul? She was assuming he was, but she couldn't… really tell. Was he a normal human, then? He was young. Now that Touka actually looked at him, listened to him, she could tell that he was just like any other high school kid. So he couldn't be a dove.

Right?

She stepped back into the front of the shop, finding that Kaneki had positioned himself deliberately between Tsukiyama and Mutsuki. She had to admit that Kaneki was sensible, at least. Whatever he planned to do, he intended to keep Mutsuki as far away from it as possible.

"Come on, Mutsuki," she said to the boy without looking at him. She opened the door to the stairwell and waited for him to catch up. He scrambled to catch the door behind her, half turning to look back at Kaneki. "Stop dawdling. I'm not supposed to take a break until later, and this is cutting into that time."

"Ah," Mutsuki gasped, skipping steps to catch up to her frantically. "I'm sorry."

She shrugged. She didn't actually care that much. Getting away from Tsukiyama meant she could cool down. She felt guilty for leaving Irimi to deal with it though.

"What was with that guy?" Mutsuki blurted. Touka glanced at him. Human, she thought sadly. Poor kid. He was so naïve. "He was so…"

"Creepy?" Touka offered.

Mutsuki's lips tightened, and he looked down at his feet. Touka snorted. He wasn't going to say it. This kid was probably too nice or something. God damn it.

"You picked up on that before he even noticed you," Touka noted. "And he was actually acting pretty normal today."

"He was being really gross," Mutsuki said cautiously.

Touka glanced at him in surprised. "Racist, you mean?"

"No— well, yes, but I didn't get that vibe until he called me… um… 'exotic,'" Mutsuki sighed, using air quotations. "I actually meant when he was talking to you earlier. He was hitting on you, and you definitely weren't reciprocating."

"He wasn't really hitting on me," Touka muttered, closing her eyes. She had to tell herself that just to feel somewhat clean. There was no real romantic desire attached to Tsukiyama's ceaseless flattery coupled with classist insults. She'd come to realize he probably wanted to observe her in some weird way, probe her for reactions, maybe fight her again. She often didn't give him the benefit of a reaction simply because she knew it was what he wanted. But it was hard. He was just so shitty.

"Oh…" Mutsuki grimaced. "Sorry. That's just what it looked like."

"Ha, I know exactly what it looked like." Touka scowled ahead of her. "Listen, don't go anywhere near that guy. He's trouble."

"I figured that out," Mutsuki said sheepishly, smiling shyly at his feet. "I'm scared about what Kaneki's going to do, though."

Touka wanted to scoff at that, but she had to admit he had a point. Kaneki Ken had proved himself to be utterly unpredictable. "It's probably better if you don't think about that." Touka unlocked the door to her apartment. She didn't want to let this total stranger into her home, but at the same time she didn't want this kid to get eaten by Tsukiyama. A lesser of two evils. She could deal with a stranger if it meant she was saving him.

"Hinami," Touka called as she pushed the door open. There wasn't an immediate response, so Touka frowned, moving deeper into her kitchenette. "Yo… Hina…" Touka rested her hands on her hips. "Well, shit. I think she's still sleeping."

"I'm right here, Big Sis."

Touka turned around. Sitting on the window sill, knees pulled up and tucked beneath her chin, a cool breeze toying with her hair, Hinami simply tilted her head. Her eyes were on Mutsuki. They were dull and tired and heavily lidded.

"You scared me," Touka gasped, rounding the couch to get to her. "Hinami, get away from there. Did you pop the screen out?" Touka searched the floor until she found the window screen lying near the coffee table. "Hinami, that's dangerous!"

"I just thought I smelled Kaneki," Hinami said innocently, her eyes dragging toward Mutsuki's face. "I guess I was wrong."

"What do you mean?" Touka sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Did Kaneki not visit you when he came up here? That fucking little—!"

"He was here?" Hinami perked up considerably, jumping from the sill and landing delicately on her feet. "So he's okay?"

Touka didn't look at Mutsuki to see his reaction. This wasn't the type of conversation they could have in front of a stranger. So she merely nodded, and then clapped Mutsuki on the back and pushed him forward. "But anyway, this is Mutsuki."

"Mutsuki Tooru," the boy said sheepishly, offering out his hand to Hinami carefully. "It's nice to meet you…?"

"Fu—" Hinami started brightly.

"Fuji Hinami," Touka blurted. Hinami looked at her sharply, startled and alarmed. But then it seemed to settle in that her last name was taboo. "My cousin."

"It's nice to meet you," Mutsuki repeated. He seemed unfazed.

"You smell a lot like Kaneki," Hinami mused, sitting down at the coffee table and crossing her legs.

"We live together…" Mutsuki's hands seemed to wring at that, his fingers grasping at watching he could clench.

Hinami glanced at Touka. She folded her hands in her lap, and she tilted her head. "Do you know Hide too?" she asked.

"Ah, yeah…" Mutsuki laughed nervously. "Hide. He's… really excited, isn't he?"

"He's always excited about everything!" Hinami gasped, clasping her hands together in her lap. "It's so nice! You could tell him that his shirt has a stain and he'd find a way to make that positive!"

"You're exaggerating, Hinami," Touka said gently.

"Only just a little!" Hinami insisted. "Mostly I'm right, though."

"I'd take your word for it, honestly." Mutsuki sat down beside Hinami tentatively. "Do… you two live by yourselves… or…?"

"It's just us," Touka said, eying him sharply. Daring him to make a comment. He didn't. He merely nodded, as if he understood.

"I've never been to the twentieth ward before," he said thoughtfully, his eyes skimming around the room. "I've heard good things, though."

"Where are you from?" Hinami asked eagerly.

"Uh…" Mutsuki laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "A few different places. I was born in Tokyo, if you were wondering about that."

"No," Hinami said blankly, her brow knitting. "I mean, I guess some people aren't born in the city, but…"

Mutsuki smiled at her gratefully, as if her open mindedness had been intentional and conscious.

"I did spend a lot of my childhood abroad though," he said thoughtfully. "It's all a little hazy now, but I used to be able to speak a few different languages. Now it's pretty much narrowed down to Japanese, some English, and Spanish. Though it's been forever since I ever even thought about it…"

"Spanish?" Touka quirked a brow. Meanwhile, Hinami looked elated.

"You know three languages?" she gasped, leaning closer to him. He seemed to lean away instinctively before he relaxed and nodded. "Can you teach me some things?"

Mutsuki was honestly astonished. His mouth dropped open, and his eye widened, and he blinked away. "Uh…"

"It doesn't have to be anything complicated…" Hinami quickly retreated back into her little shell of security and politeness. "How do you say "hello" in Spanish?"

"Hola," Mutsuki said in a slow, smooth accent.

Hinami blinked. She nodded once. Twice. "Oh—" She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "O—ra…?"

"Hola," Mutsuki repeated gently. "It's not really an easy sound to make, the "L" sound, so don't get too frustrated. It's not your fault."

Hinami's cheeks puffed out indignantly, but she didn't complain or bring up learning another language anymore. She just looked disappointed now.

Touka wasn't sure what she'd been expecting from Mutsuki, but she wasn't annoyed by him. In fact, he seemed to click with Hinami, which she was grateful for. Hinami didn't really have many people to talk to, let alone new people. And she was clearly enjoying herself, so who was Touka to judge?

Well, she could. Easily. But she wasn't going to.

"How do you say "fuck you" in Spanish?" Touka asked dully.

"Big Sis!" Hinami hissed, enunciating the syllables of onee-chan sharply, throwing Touka a glare. "That's rude!"

Mutsuki seemed to freeze, looking a little frazzled. His mouth opened, and then it closed. "Oh," he said, laughing nervously. "Um… hold on, I have to think. I haven't actually spoken it in a while." He glanced down at his lap while Hinami stared at him intently. Touka assumed Mutsuki was closer to her own age, but it was entirely possible that he was younger than her. Perhaps he and Hinami had more in common than he and herself. Mutsuki shifted uneasily, deep in thought. "Vete a la mierda. That's… the closest I think, to what you want to say."

"That sounds tricky." Touka pursed her lips. "B… Vi…" Her nose wrinkled. "Fuck that, holy shit."

"You asked, sis…" Hinami muttered.

"Did I ask you?" Touka bonked Hinami on the head playfully. "Who even needs Spanish anyway? I've never met anyone who spoke Spanish before today!"

"I haven't had to use it here much," Mutsuki admitted, twiddling his thumbs. "I've had to use English more, even though I don't know it nearly as well."

"You know Spanish better than English?" Touka scoffed, reclining on the floor on the other side of the table. "What fancy school did you go to?"

Mutsuki didn't respond, looking a little uncomfortable. Touka wondered if she'd said something wrong. Hinami peered at him, her hands in her lap, her head cocked to the side. She closed her eyes.

"Ah!" She jumped to her feet, leaping over Mutsuki to run to the door. Touka watched her go bemusedly before it clicked. She stood up as well, smoothing out the wrinkles in her uniform skirt. She really needed to get back to work.

Hinami swung open the door. "Kaneki!" she gasped. She was rather formal in spite of her excitement, calling him Kaneki-san. She bounced on the balls of her feet. "You're back!"

"Hinami." Touka couldn't see Kaneki's face, but his voice was soft and salient, like the saturated cotton candy clouds of a sunset. "Hi. I'm glad you're okay."

"Mhm!" Hinami clasped her hands behind her and beamed. "Thanks to you!"

"I didn't really do much," Kaneki said sheepishly, stepping into Touka's apartment. His eyes met hers, and he smiled mildly. "Sorry about that. Did I miss anything?"

"Bete a ra mierda," Touka told him blankly.

Kaneki stared at her. His eyes widened significantly, and he blinked rapidly. "Sorry…?"

"How was that?" Touka asked Mutsuki, folding her arms across her chest.

"The pronunciation was a little off," Mutsuki said uncertainly, "but… yeah. Basically."

"Ha ha, um… what?" Kaneki tilted his head. "I wasn't gone that long, was I? Really, what just happened?"

"Mutsuki taught Touka swears in Spanish," Hinami piped up, leaning back on her heels. She looked eager to speak, as though she'd been anticipating this moment for a while. Touka knew Hinami habitually fell into a rhythm of hero worship. As though one good deed made a person completely morally uncompromisable.

"Did he now?" Kaneki's eyebrows raised, and Mutsuki sunk into the floor, his dark cheeks reddening. "That's pretty neat. Spanish, huh?"

"Hey," Touka said, watching him dully. "What exactly just happened between you and Tsukiyama?"

Kaneki glanced at her. He didn't even have the grace to look astonished. He merely stared for a few moments with a weak expression that reflected nothing inside his brain.

"We talked." Kaneki offered a shrug. His body language suggested he was not worried, though Touka could not fathom why. Tuskiyama was a tough customer for normal ghouls, and Kaneki Ken was a weak little half breed snot. He didn't have the power necessary to defend himself or Mutsuki if Tsukiyama decided to act on whatever impulse had sent him to Anteiku, to Mutsuki's table, to his creepy tendencies.

"For real." Touka's eyes narrowed. She heard her voice slice through the air like tin foil ripping. "You think I actually believe that? Bullshit, Kaneki. Bull fucking shit."

"Believe what you want," Kaneki said calmly. "Mutsuki, we really need to get going."

"A-ah!" Mutsuki leapt to his feet, looking horrified. "Right! Oh no, we're going to be so late!"

"Don't worry about it," Kaneki said with a sheepish little smile. "No one is going to be focused on you."

Mutsuki's brow furrowed as he walked toward the door. Touka understood why. What the hell was that supposed to mean? It sounded so goddamn haughty! God, she could smack this jerk right over the head and he'd thank her for the service of ruffling his fucking hair.

"You're really leaving?" Hinami looked deflated, her shoulders sagging and her words coming out in short little puffs. "So soon?"

"I'm so sorry, Hinami," Kaneki said, sounding so earnest that Touka almost believed he was really remorseful. "But Mutsuki and I really have to get to work."

"Will you come back?" Hinami gasped her eyes wide. "Maybe with Big Bro Hide next time? I have so much to ask you!"

For half a second, Kaneki seemed to mouth the words Hide-onii-chan. But then he smiled warmly, and he reached out, touching her briefly on the crown of her head. His fingers lingered for a moment against her hair before he quickly retracted them, as though he'd found himself doing something wrong.

"I'll try my best," he said firmly. "Bye, Hinami. Touka."

She swallowed down a bitter remark, washing it down her throat and watching Kaneki turn away.

Her eyes flickered to his back, observing the hole that had torn through his shirt at the small of his back. She pressed her mouth into a thin line to hide a smirk.

Kaneki paused mid-step as Mutsuki shrugged off his jacket and offered it out. They were nearing the twentieth ward's branch headquarters, their walk brisk and silent for the most part. Mutsuki hadn't asked any questions, though Kaneki sensed he was dying to know what had happened.

"What's this?" Kaneki asked, glancing down at the jacket uncertainly.

"There's a hole," Mutsuki said weakly. He didn't elaborate. He just shoved the jacket into Kaneki's hands.

It took Kaneki a few moments to realize what he meant.

"Oh." Kaneki thumbed the torn fabric at his back, his fingertips grazing his skin. "Um… oops?" He took the jacket and pulled it on gratefully. It was a little tight fitting, but it'd do. Kaneki glanced at Mutsuki, and he smiled minutely. "Hey… do you mind keeping this a secret?"

"What?" Mutsuki asked. His voice wavered a little. He was probably just confused, and Kaneki couldn't blame him. After all, Kaneki had not given any sort of explanation for his disappearing act, or for Tsukiyama, or even for Touka and Hinami.

Part of Kaneki was hoping Mutsuki just wouldn't make the connection.

"The kagune thing." Kaneki looked down at Mutsuki, watching the way he reacted. He seemed to be generally a very jumpy person. "Sorry, I know it probably sounds weird, but honestly I don't think I can really afford to be interrogated again."

"Again?" Mutsuki looked a little skeptical, his eyes lowering toward the ground. "Kaneki… can you please tell me what happened between you and the CCG?"

"Me and the CCG…" Kaneki didn't want to admit that the CCG had locked him up twice. At least they'd had a somewhat reasonable explanation for the second time. The first time they'd just been assholes about it. "That's complicated."

"Uncomplicate it." Mutsuki's jaw tightened. He looked inexplicably determined all of a sudden, like he'd been possessed by some incredible rush of assertiveness. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to sound harsh, but… Kaneki, I don't know you. You don't know me either. I don't think you're a bad person— you seem very nice, from what I've… what I've actually seen, but please." He exhaled sharply, and Kaneki watched his skinny fingers clutch at the hem of his coat. "I need to know why you were put in Cochlea!"

The city sounds were passing them by, tires hissing by, low chattering of distant crowds filling the air in jumbled white noise, traffic signals beeping away. Kaneki closed his eyes. The sounds were so familiar, but he felt so separated from it all. Like he didn't really belong in this whirlwind world anymore. It was such a terrible feeling of disconnect, like someone had unplugged the wire attached to his brain and his eyes were reflecting the snowy screens inside his skull.

"Okay." Kaneki started forward again, walking quick, walking brisk, walking and talking without a care. "I want you to trust me, Mutsuki, so I'll try to be as honest as possible with you. I was placed in Cochlea for insubordination."

"There's more to it than that," Mutsuki murmured, quick on the upkeep, his heals clipping the sidewalk as he walked one step behind Kaneki with ease. It was like he was only following him as a sign of respect, like he could probably outwalk him if he wanted.

Kaneki shot him a small smile. "I was trying to save a ghoul," Kaneki said simply. "That's why I was put into Cochlea."

He let his words settle in, falling like feathers upon the surface of an undisturbed pool. Ripples began to form from the moment of impact, and the feather merely drifted on its merry way, dew drops forming in its bristles, slowly beginning to weigh it down.

"Oh." Mutsuki sounded faint. Not so much alarmed as he was confused, like this information wasn't quite processing. While Kaneki felt like he'd been unplugged, he was certain Mutsuki felt like he'd been fed insufficient data, and it was taking too long to load, so his brain was just one slowly filling green bar. It seemed to hit him as the CCG came upon them. "Oh."

"You're my replacement." Kaneki shot Mutsuki a sad smile, and Mutsuki jumped, jerking back in alarm. "There's nothing wrong with that, Mutsuki. You're not at fault here. But the thing is, you know, they'd probably get rid of me if they could. I think I'm becoming a liability."

"Why did you try to save a ghoul?" Mutsuki whispered. He didn't sound appalled or disgusted. Confused, yes, and concerned. Perhaps he was worrying for Kaneki's safety. "Kaneki, that's—!"

"Irrational?" Kaneki continued to walk, his feet clapping in time with his biting words. "Insane? Improbable? Illogical? Mutsuki, from what I understand, you and I are two very different species." He stopped before the CCG's headquarters, a looming building that made his skin crawl. In spite of that, he would return, every day, without fail. He spun around, and he smiled at Mutsuki softly. "The CCG didn't create me. I was not ethically produced, and I did not give my consent to become the way I am. And what I am is a ghoul. Which nobody in the CCG wants to accept."

Mutsuki looked truly alarmed this time, his mouth falling open and his eye flashing wide. He didn't seem to know exactly what to respond with, for the silence bled on, and Kaneki could only lower his eyes and let them close. This was difficult for anyone. After all, Mutsuki was a stranger, and he had to trust Kaneki enough to live with him.

"I have something to confess," Mutsuki blurted. Kaneki looked up sharply, blinking at Mutsuki's dark face. He seemed to be distressed, but his expression hardly showed it. He had a very serene face, his worry and doubt expressed through his furrowed brow. "Mr. Kaneki, while you were away with Mr. Washuu, I… was also pulled aside by a Mr. Washuu." Mutsuki's fingers were white against his jacket as he clutched it for dear life, looking sad and remorseful. "Washuu Matsuri, Washuu Yoshitoki's son? He just came back from Germany for… whatever reason. He must have heard about our meeting somehow, because he found me immediately after you two left."

"Oh?" Kaneki wasn't following. What was Mutsuki trying to confess?

The boy took a deep breath. "He brought me to the doctor who developed the surgery— my surgery," Mutsuki said in a slow, uneven little voice. "Dr. Chigyou. He's nice… well, a lot nicer than Matsuri. Dr. Chigyou just wanted to meet me, to see how the surgery had gone. He wanted to see my eye, and he asked me questions. My eating habits, my sleep schedule…" Mutsuki was staring past Kaneki's head, like he was removing himself completely from the world and found some place beyond the horizon to escape to. "It was like a check-up, but faster. I didn't really know what was going on. And then Dr. Chigyou asked about you, and Matsuri said you were being "taken care of," which honestly sounded really sketchy, and I wanted to go back to Amon, but he wouldn't let me excuse myself. He gave me his email address and phone number. Basically… he wants me to keep him consistently updated on any, um…" Mutsuki closed his eye, his mouth folding into a frown. "Abnormalities."

"Ghoul activity, you mean?"

Mutsuki's eye was stuck closed. He nodded furiously.

"He sent me a message early this morning," Mutsuki murmured. "He asked if you were acting strange."

Kaneki thought he should be feeling a sense of betrayal right now. Perhaps it was because he didn't really know Mutsuki that it wasn't really registering.

"What did you say?" Kaneki asked cautiously.

Mutsuki opened his eye, and he smiled weakly. "I never responded," he admitted.

"Well that's encouraging." Kaneki knew he sounded sarcastic, and it was a joke, mostly. Mutsuki looked down.

"I didn't want to say anything, because I haven't really formed a solid opinion about you." His hands were clenching tightly, and Kaneki found himself feeling guilty. At least I feel something, he thought. "But I think I'm beginning to understand. That man, the one at the café… he was a ghoul, right?"

Kaneki stared at him. He didn't know why, but he was overtaken by a sudden chill. Of course Tsukiyama didn't really hide how ghoulish he was. It was kind of his thing, being overtly predatory while maintaining a faint glaze of charm.

"Yes," Kaneki said cautiously.

"You fought him."

Now Mutsuki was merely speaking matter-of-factly, as if he could read Kaneki's thoughts.

In truth, the confrontation had gone a little differently than what Mutsuki was probably imagining.

The moment Mutsuki and Touka had disappeared up the stairs, Kaneki had rounded on Tsukiyama.

"Come with me," he'd said, glancing him in the eyes so he could sense how fucking pissed he was. Tsukiyama loved confrontation and he loved glory and he certainly loved a challenge. Kaneki didn't have to make any pretty threats to lead Tsukiyama away from Mutsuki.

Tsukiyama had made a soft noise, like a humming mixed with a huffing sound. He followed though, one foot after the other, with a usual strut to his stride. It was both funny and ridiculous. It also made Kaneki feel strangely nostalgic.

"This was certainly unexpected," Tsukiyama had quipped, his legs stretching to match Kaneki's pace. "I had no idea that boy was being accompanied by another ghoul."

"How did you know I was a ghoul?" Kaneki asked flatly.

"Well isn't that a silly question." Tsukiyama had smirked down at him, and he sighed loftily, dragging his finger against the corner of his eye and stretching the eyelid gently. "Your kakugan, of course. I really do have to ask, though, why is it only one eye?"

Kaneki's fingers had grazed below his eyelid, but there were no veins protruding beneath his skin. It was anger that had triggered the transformation. Intense anger. He had to remember that he was in a public place. That was somehow less concerning now that he was a ghoul investigator.

He'd strolled around to the back of Anteiku, his feet clipping the back alley asphalt. He looked up at the sky, and saw that it was a pale, washed out blue.

"Tsukiyama." Kaneki had turned sharply on his heel. The man was watching him, he head tilted, one eyebrow raised quizzically. He was sporting an amused little smile. "What are you trying to accomplish here?"

"Hmm?" Tsukiyama peered at him, and he cupped his chin. "I'm not really sure what you mean… what was your name again?"

"I'm only going to tell you once." Kaneki stepped forward. He glowered up at Tsukiyama, meeting his eye and forcing him to understand that Kaneki wasn't fucking around. Even if this body was weaker— weaker because of lack of exercise, weaker because of lack of practice, weaker perhaps because he'd never been tortured, never been forced into a role of kill or be killed. But regardless, his mind was keen and sharp, and it struck out like a knife. "Stay away from Anteiku. Stay away from that boy you were trying to lure away. Stay away."

Tsukiyama's smile hadn't completely dissipated, but his face fell considerably as he'd watched Kaneki. He lowered his hands to his side, and he squared his shoulders.

"Now this is a strange development," he murmured. He offered up his arms, throwing them out side-to-side, and he jerked his chin jauntily. "This is a free territory, is it not? I can prey upon any cute little human boy I so choose." Tsukiyama winked. "Unless, of course, he's your pet. There's no shame in that, sir, really. I understand the sentiment quite well."

Kaneki had bristled. The phrasing had thrown him off, made him feel a little nauseous. Pet? That was such a terrible thing to say about anyone. Really, it was just disgusting! Sometimes Kaneki forgot just how shitty Tsukiyama had been!

He'd taken a step. He'd done that knowing Tsukiyama was watching his every movement, his eyes trailing after Kaneki's moving feet. Even so, Tsukiyama did nothing to stop Kaneki from pinning him to a wall with Kaneki's forearm crushing his trachea.

"I'm not fucking around," Kaneki had snapped. With a surge of rage, a single limb of his kagune slithered from the small of his back, curling around his shoulder like a gleaming red claw. Its point glinted dangerously close to Tsukiyama's jaw. "I can't protect you if you fuck up, Tsukiyama. So do yourself a favor and quit baiting the CCG."

"The doves?" Tsukiyama's eyes had flashed wide, though only with a great gleam of curiosity. "What do the doves have to do with our pleasant conversation… Kaneki, was it?"

It was strange hearing the very familiar lilt of Kaneki-kun coming from Tsukiyama now, especially because the tone was so very different. There wasn't fondness or excitement buried beneath the layers of Tsukiyama's voice. Only poison.

Kaneki was running out of options. At this point, Tsukiyama had done only what was expected of Tsukiyama Shuu. Mutsuki Tooru had the appearance, mannerisms, and disposition of Kaneki Ken before everything had changed and torture and time travel had transformed him. Of course Tsukiyama would be drawn to Mutsuki. But that was just a disaster waiting to happen. Kaneki didn't want Mutsuki to have to suffer through Tsukiyama's misguided infatuation. First he'd have to survive Tsukiyama's initial pining, which was even worse, and it would have a negative impact in general. Not to mention that Mutsuki was a ghoul investigator first and foremost.

But so am I, Kaneki had recalled. I don't need to protect Tsukiyama from the doves. I can't protect him from us.

"I am a ghoul investigator," Kaneki had stated in a small, empty voice. "Take my warning, and stay the hell away."

Kaneki had released him and whirled away.

He knew that saying such a thing would only divert Tsukiyama's attention from Mutsuki and onto Kaneki.

It was better that way. Kaneki knew had to handle Tsukiyama. Mutsuki…

Kaneki wanted to protect him. He didn't want to see him fall into the same awful patterns that had ruined Kaneki's life the first time.

Looking at Mutsuki now, it was easy to see the similarities between himself and the boy. It was almost disturbing. Like because now Kaneki could deal with the bullshit the world threw at him, the world had decided that another person had to suffer the same fate.

Bullshit.

"I gave him a warning," Kaneki said quietly. He was telling the truth, after all. "There are some ghouls… Mutsuki, not all ghouls are bad. Not even that guy… can be all bad." Kaneki turned his eyes away, focusing on the height of the building before them. "Unfortunately, right now we can't trust him not to act out and attack us."

Mutsuki looked down. Perhaps he was trying to figure out exactly what Kaneki meant by that.

"You make it sound like we can trust ghouls at all," Mutsuki whispered.

Kaneki glanced at him. He smiled wanly. "You can't rule out the possibility that ghouls might be sympathetic to people like you or me," he said gently. "We're halfbreeds, Mutsuki. We have more to consider than just 'what is the human thing to do?'" He shook his head, and started toward the entrance. "Sometimes the human thing isn't always the right thing."

As he walked into the building, he was left unaware of Mutsuki pulling his phone from his pocket and typing a short response to Washuu Matsuri.

No.

Chapter Text

She was thinking a lot lately, about families.

What made a family a family?

Was it the presence of a mother and a father? A child? Nurture? Love? What were the components to the perfect family? Where could she find them? She wanted the recipe.

Give it to her.

Please.

Make her a family.

It was all she really hungered for.

Being responsible for another person again was so jarring. She had to clean up and chide and act like an adult, and part of her really liked it, because it gave her an opportunity to flex authority. That never happened. But part of her also hated it. Because she felt like she was fucking up.

Like Hinami would leave her too.

She knew how utterly repellant she was. If Hinami grew up and decided Touka was a boring old coward, well, then, so fucking be it. Hinami could leave. And Touka would stay. That was how it would go. She'd sung this tune before. She'd walked these steps through a thousand times. She knew this dance.

It was just a matter of time before her family fell apart again.

Well. There was her goddamn pessimism rearing its head.

She wanted to be happy. It wasn't like she was intentionally whittling away her self-esteem, telling herself that she was an awful person, like, no wonder nobody stuck around. It wasn't like that. She didn't know why she had thoughts like this. She didn't know why her head was filled to the brim with these unsettling ideations, that she was just meant to be alone, and she had to be okay with that, and because it was her fate to be alone, she had to be self-sufficient. Self-involved. Her life revolved around simple facts.

She would live alone. She would die alone.

If and when and how were just variables. Facts were facts, steadfast as the horizon line.

This life was a good life. She had friends. She had a home. She had, essentially, a family. It wasn't perfect or pretty, but it was… safe. Loving. Anteiku made her feel like maybe she was wrong. Maybe her fate wasn't steeped in isolation.

And then the inevitable happened.

Her world came to a crashing halt.

She'd been walking home from Yoriko's home, the sky a steely gray, clouds streaking above the particularly box-inclined geometric skyscrapers. The air felt chilly. Her cheeks were a little numb, and her breath was expelling in puffs. Was this winter? Had it already come? That was so amazing. Winter had seemed so far off, but hear it was, biting into her skin.

The sunset today was gray, like the sunrise, and the sunset before it. Her shoes were black against the gray pavement, and she felt like someone had drained her, like someone had pressed chapped lips to her temple and sucked the color out of her eyes until it was nothing but monochrome. She thought it was pretty, in its own ugly way. Gray was such an underappreciated color. It looked so sad. Like black and white had interacted, and the muddied result was left to bask in the sunless days forever more.

The streetlights were on. An umbrella swung from her wrist. The day was dead, and the clouds were fat and ready for the weeping.

She saw a splotch of white out of the corner of her eye. In this palette, everything seemed either black or white or gray, so it wasn't shocking. When she glanced over, she saw a tall man standing at the mouth of a dark alley. He was watching her. And she watched him.

Sharply, she redirected her course. Her even strides became more brisk. The umbrella beat at her hip as she marched toward the alley, toward the man.

"Yomo," she said, letting her voice die like the day gone past. "Is something wrong?"

"I need to speak with you."

It was odd. He was so bad at communicating, at being there, so she didn't know exactly how to handle this. Something had to be wrong for Yomo to show up out of the depths of the gray evening and decide that they needed to have a conversation. Right now. In a dark alley.

"What's this all about?" She was smiling nervously. She knew that. She could feel the corners of her lips twitching, and she knew it was an ugly sight. "You know I don't like surprises."

"Sorry." Yomo brow furrowed. Touka knew him well enough to understand that he was guilty. He seemed uncomfortable. Nervous, even. Something was very wrong.

"What happened?" She was already on the offensive, and she didn't even know what the fuck she was going to fight. All she knew was that she was ready. "Should I find Hinami a place to stay?"

"Anteiku is safe." Yomo glanced at her tiredly. "I'm sorry. I'm just troubling you, right? I didn't mean to scare you."

"It's… fine." She glanced behind her. The gray sunset made the shadows drip down Tokyo's tightly knitted streets. Sidewalks were pulsing gray, and asphalt was glistening black, and buildings were dazes of yellowish light, surreal little blurbs of pale bulbs burning away a little bit of your vision, as though they were mini suns floating inside steel stacks. "It's just weird. Seeing you around like this, all shady in a back alley. What am I supposed to think?"

"I don't exactly come bearing good news," Yomo admitted. He glanced around. Quickly, he spun on his heel and waved her forward. "Come with me."

She stood in the mouth of the alley, the dregs of grayish daylight gleaming at her back. Her instincts told her to turn the other way, to let Yomo's white back fade into the night as she bathed herself in the haze of dying light. But she was scared. So she fell over herself, onto her own sword, and started forward into a slight jog to catch up.

"Should I be worried?" Touka glanced up at his face, finding that he gave her not even a hint of what lay ahead in his expression. Go fucking figure.

He didn't even respond. What the hell was she supposed to think now? She felt like he was leading her to her execution. It was a shivery feeling, like her throat was being tightened, a noose fastened close to her trachea.

They kept walking. By the time they ended up on a main road again, the monochrome world was blotted with in a glaze of yellow streetlights. The air tasted vaguely acidic, as though the sky wanted to rain but it had forgotten how.

Yomo's apartment was a little shabby. He lived in a part of town where there were more people than square footage, and frankly, it wasn't the pinnacle of population.

"Where's the shithead?" Touka asked dully, dropping herself into a chair and making herself as comfortable as possible. She felt like she needed to put on an act, even if Yomo didn't particularly care or notice when she did stuff like this.

"Doing his job." Yomo wasn't looking at her. That was annoying. He'd dragged her here. He'd scared the hell out of her. So what now? What was this all about? He couldn't even look at her! Sometimes Yomo's personality was just so infuriating! "Touka. I doubt you've been told yet, but I feel… obligated."

"Yeah?" Touka swung her umbrella idly. "About what?"

Yomo looked at her. Why did he have that look? He always looked like he wanted to reach out real slow, his fingers stretching, and close his fists around her neck. He didn't look like he cared or like he wanted her to know he cared. He just looked like she was something he needed to get rid of. Something he wanted to make disappear.

Like a compromising photograph that needed to be ripped apart. Like a ghost that did nothing but stand and stare.

"Kaneki came to Yoshimura with a plan." Yomo pulled up a chair, and he sat across from her. His eyes were hard and black, dim like unpolished coals. "He wants us to team up with the CCG."

Touka's umbrella swung limply from her wrist as her neck jerked fiercely. She felt as though he'd punched her in the gut so hard, his fist had broken skin, and he was winding her intestines around his arm.

"WHAT?" Touka leapt to her feet, dropping the umbrella in order to smack her hands against her head, her hair gathering between her fingers as she tried to wrap it all around her, figure out her role in all this, Hinami's role, Anteiku, and it was all just entirely too fucking much. "What? Oh my god, what the fuck?"

Yomo stared at her. He nodded once.

"How? What? Why? What? Holy fuck, no! No way! Fuck. What?" She scraped her bangs from her forehead, and if her thoughts could slow the fuck down, then she'd be screaming louder, louder, louder— at the top of her lungs. "That's fucking insane! That's bullshit!"

"Yoshimura doesn't think so." Yomo's eyes closed, like watching her was just too much. "I trust him."

"You're crazy too!" Touka's breathing was picking up in pace, and she felt winded, her ears buzzing like she'd been knocked over the head. "Oh… oh my god, you're going to kill us all!"

"Touka." Yomo's eyes snapped open, and he looked at her sharply. "I didn't tell you to ask your opinion. This isn't up to you. Kaneki has decided to trust the CCG, and we've decided to trust Kaneki. We all have our issues with it. I don't like it, the thought of providing information to those people, but we have to be practical. We can't pass up an opportunity that might make the CCG more liberal."

"Liberal?" Touka spat, dragging her hands down her face. "Is that a joke? Is this a fucking joke?"

Yomo just… stared. It made her want to claw her eyes out so she didn't have to stare back.

"You can scream," he said calmly. "You can yell at me. Punch me if you want." He stood up, a looming figure that made her actually step back. Did she fear him? Adore him? She didn't know. He was a friend, but he made her nervous. Like she was doing something wrong by existing. "It won't change the fact that this is happening. So you can scream. Yell. Hit me. But you can't escape it."

She exhaled shakily. The scream in her throat was swallowed down, a lump in her chest that ached so heavily.

"What…?" Her voice was thin. Reedy. She heard it, and it sliced in the air like a knife against skin. "What is this plan?"

Yomo watched her. He stood, loomed, and his lack of words seemed to sing her a symphony. It was all strings. And they were all screeching.

"An informant will feed the doves information about a ghoul organization called Aogiri Tree." Yomo's voice could not bend. She wondered if it knew the weight it dealt. "That's all. We don't give our names or our faces. Just information. And then, hopefully, we'll prove something."

"That's one damn flimsy plan," Touka remarked bitterly.

"Yes." Yomo's cold eyes whisked over her face. "But, Touka, you're still… so young. You don't realize yet. When you get older, you get tired. Even a shred of hope is sometimes enough to make us yield."

"Don't act like you're so fucking old," she sneered. "I'm not a little kid, okay? I'm fully capable of understanding shit like this!"

He didn't respond.

"Stop looking at me like that!" She huffed, throwing her arms out and leaning forward. "What? What is it? Are you annoyed that I'm pissed off? Well take a good look! I'm angry! I don't think this is a good idea, and I think we're throwing our lives away because that Kaneki asshole is an absolute idiot!"

"I'm waiting," Yomo said.

"For what?" Touka gasped. "A goddamn divine intervention? Yomo! Look me in the eye and tell me you don't think this is a fool's errand!"

Yomo stayed silent. Because he could. Or because, maybe, he didn't know how to say what he wanted to say. Either way, it was effective. Touka felt like she was yelling at air, like her words were hitting a brick wall and dying brutal, honest little deaths. Bloody and broken on the floor, they could not be salvaged, and she let them die, because it was too hard to pick them up and start again. Once you fought once, it was so hard to get back up and go through the same motions. She was tired.

Was this what growing up felt like?

She wanted it to stop.

One day, she might wake up and feel empty.

All her passion might just drain out of her.

What would that be like? To be free of anger?

To be like Yomo?

Well, she could always end up dying before adulthood drained her of her personality.

That'd be funny.

And likely, given their current situation.

"Wait," she said confusedly, "who the hell is going to spy on this group for the doves? You?"

"I'm not charismatic enough. Apparently." Yomo didn't sound offended. Touka thought that maybe that was a joke, but it was phrased so strangely. "Spying requires making friends. I can watch people from far away, but I can't make them trust me."

"Okay, I get that." Touka sighed. "So… who then?"

"Right now, the best option is Nishiki."

"You'd trust that shitty ass nerd?" Touka groaned. "We're doomed. We're all dead. He's certainly the deadest of all. Rest in fucking pieces, nerd boy extraordinaire."

"Nishiki is more reliable than you'd expect." Yomo glanced at her sharply. "He's more than qualified for this job."

"Ugh. Fine. Whatever!" She shrugged, her shoulders snapping up to her jaw from the force. "I don't care. Why did you even have to bring me here? You could have told me this at Anteiku."

"Because I didn't want anyone else to hear what I'm about to tell you next." Yomo's eyes were on hers, and she though the weight might force them to roll back into her skull. "I did some digging on Aogiri. Followed some of its people. Touka, Ayato is a member."

It didn't hit her right away. It didn't really hit her at all. Ayato? A member? Of this… whatever? Like, why should that matter?

"I'm not Ayato's keeper," she said flatly. "He can do what he wants."

"We are going to do our best to take down Aogiri, and not humanely." Yomo watched her, and she realized that he was implying something dire. "Ayato is deeply involved with their organization."

"Oh." Touka leaned back. "Oh."

Yes. It made sense. So… Anteiku was turning its back on Ayato, as Ayato had turned his back on it.

So… fucking… what?

She didn't care. She couldn't care. She had other responsibilities. She had a life. She had school, Hinami, Yoriko, Anteiku. She had hopes and dreams and aspirations, and Ayato had… what? A rebelling squad of ghouls who were going to get crushed by the doves sooner or later, with or without Touka's help?

It was a joke. What the hell should she care? Why did it have to be up to her? Like, what could she even do? Ayato wouldn't listen to her. He'd turn the other way, and just drop dead anyway.

Maybe she should just let it happen.

Was that crazy?

Was it crazy that the thought of letting him die without so much as trying to help him made her want to rip open her chest and pry her ribs apart?

She found herself back in that chair. She'd lifted her legs up and pulled them to her chest. What was she going to do? Anteiku was going to help the CCG whether she liked it or not. Ayato… was in danger. Whether she liked it or not.

So what was she going to do?

"Oh my god…" She buried her lips in her knees. She didn't know. She didn't know what to do. She wanted to do nothing, but this was her brother. It was hard. Because even after everything, even after the awful exchanges, the mean, hateful words, she knew. She still loved him. If he'd just let her, she'd do anything for him. "Fuck… oh… my god…"

She couldn't protect him anymore.

Right?

…Right?

"Why don't we take a break?" Kaneki offered, watching Mutsuki double over and pant heavily. They'd been at this for about an hour now, and Kaneki had said these words at least seven times.

Once more, Mutsuki shook his head.

"No," he gasped, swallowing thickly and lifting his head. Sweat glinted on his brow and upper lip. "I'm okay. Let's keep going."

"Mutsuki…"

What was with this kid?

They didn't have any specific orders right now. There was an investigation going on to hunt for Rabbit and Gourmet, but nobody expected Kaneki to do research. Apparently he was just here to cut down and exterminate ghouls. How ironic was that?

"I'm really fine!" Mutsuki pushed his hair from his eyes and forehead, glancing around the gym worriedly. "Gym class was a pretty vital part of the academy, so I'm used to this."

"You seem like you're having trouble breathing." Kaneki didn't mean to sound suspicious, but Mutsuki winced anyway. Kaneki didn't know what he'd said wrong, but he regretted it. "I don't want to fight you if you can barely breathe."

Mutsuki looked a little downtrodden. He wasn't bad, necessarily, but he was naturally very weak. His small stature attributed to it, but Mutsuki didn't have a lot of muscle. Kaneki didn't doubt his potential, but if he got into a fight now, he'd definitely lose. That was a scary prospect.

Kaneki slid down against a far wall, digging into the bag he'd taken with him to work and retrieving two waters. He tossed the other to Mutsuki, who caught it easily, albeit nervously.

"Sit." Kaneki stared at him, cupping the water gingerly in both hands. "Let's talk."

"Uh…" Mutsuki was clearly anxious, but that didn't stop him from doing what Kaneki said. It was weird. They were the same rank, but Mutsuki acted like Kaneki was so superior somehow. It wasn't like Kaneki had been with the CCG long. In fact, from what Mutsuki had told him, he'd been enrolled in the Academy far longer than Kaneki had even been a ghoul.

"We're supposed to go out and investigate with Amon soon," Kaneki reminded him. "It shouldn't be difficult, but will you be okay on the field?"

"I'll be fine." Mutsuki looked at him sharply. "I… I'm not going to run away, or die, or anything. I can do investigating. It's my job, after all."

Kaneki smiled, and he took a swig of water. This felt so familiar. The gym was brighter, and there was no underlying hint of piss that the underground tunnels had, but it still reminded him of those days. With Touka. And Yomo.

He missed that.

Being nostalgic about things that had technically never even happened was strange. Like he'd hallucinated the whole thing. Because only his feelings about the subject remained.

"I appreciate you helping me," Mutsuki murmured. His mouth was brushing the lip of his water bottle, his visible eye closed.

"It's not a big deal, Mutsuki."

"Yeah it is." Mutsuki raised his head and stared up at him. "You said it yourself. I'm your replacement. If I… if I ever actually learn to use my kagune, what will happen to you?"

Kaneki didn't want to respond. He knew the answer. Maybe Mutsuki did too. It didn't actually matter if either of them responded, because neither would admit to the truth that they already completely comprehended.

"It'll be fine," Kaneki lied, patting Mutsuki gently on the shoulder. "I'm not worried. I'll figure something out."

"That's not very encouraging…"

"Well," Kaneki laughed nervously, "just pretend it is. It's the best I've got right now."

Mutsuki stared at him. There was something going on in this boy's head that Kaneki could not understand. He knew that. It was killing him.

Everyone had the right to hide something. Hell, Kaneki was hiding a whole lot of shit from Mutsuki. But Kaneki's curiosity would not stop pestering him. He couldn't escape the consistent intrusive thoughts. Why was Mutsuki so jumpy? What was he so afraid of? Why had he been so eager to graduate from the Academy early?

Kaneki didn't need to know. He just really wanted to.

He heard a steady ringing coming from the pocket of his bag, and he blinked, snatching up his phone confusedly. Nobody really called him nowadays. Except Hide, of course, but Hide was supposed to be in class right now.

When he checked the caller ID, he found he didn't recognize the number.

"Hello?" he answered tentatively, turning his face away from Mutsuki.

"Good morning, Kaneki," a bright, level voice buzzed in his ear. It wasn't an unpleasant sound. It was something like a songbird in the distance. Beautiful, but confusing. "This is Washuu Yoshitoki. I just got your email."

"Oh!" Kaneki lept to his feet, nearly spilling his water across the sparring mats. "Oh, right! Yes, I'm sorry. Should I have not sent it?"

"Don't worry, my emails are secure enough for this. However, if we are going to continue to speak of sensitive information, it might be best to do it over the phone, or ideally, in person."

"That… makes sense."

"There is a caveat to that, of course," Yoshitoki sighed. "I can't be seen with you too often, or else it will be suspected that we are scheming together."

Kaneki couldn't help but think to himself, Is that not what this is? But he didn't say that, because he didn't know how. He stepped over Mutsuki, signaling that he was going to step out for a minute.

"So there is no really safe option?" Kaneki wasn't surprised, but it did provide some caution for the future.

"That's the trouble with plotting something in secret. There is no "safe" or "comfortable" for us now. We either succeed or we fail from here on out."

"I see." Kaneki didn't see. He was hopelessly confused. "And if we fail, what happens exactly to the other people involved?"

Yoshitoki was quiet on the other line, as though he was trying to puzzle out Kaneki's thought process. "You said you had a volunteer we could trust," he said calmly. "I respect that. I won't pry for more information about their identity, but you do understand how delicate this situation is, right? You're already treading on thin ice, Kaneki. If this goes wrong, if we reveal this plan and it is not received kindly, you may not survive long enough to see the repercussions of our folly."

Kaneki inhaled sharply through his nose, his grip on his phone tightening. He was walking. He didn't know where. He realized he was going in circles, pacing subconsciously as he tried to make a map of this plan in his head. They were only focusing on getting a mole into Aogiri. But once the mole established their loyalty to the organization— Kaneki didn't know how, but he had a feeling there would be murder involved— it was basically a low risk job.

He knew, however, that Yoshitoki was going to want more.

Of course he would.

He was taking a huge risk by allowing this to happen. Because he'd been the one to offer a ghoul immunity. That could put his job in serious danger. This was a scandal waiting to happen.

"The way I see it," Kaneki said softly, "you'll be far worse off. If you don't mind me saying."

"Oh?" Yoshitoki sounded strangely upbeat. Curious, even. "How so?"

"Like you said," Kaneki informed him steadily, "I'm probably not going to live long enough to experience the repercussions if this goes south. But you, sir, well… I don't envy your position. You're taking a huge risk on my word, and I appreciate that."

"This is all still in what I'd call a trial stage," Yoshitoki said gently. "We have nothing to fear just yet, Kaneki. If the informant can't supply sufficient information, or if they betray us by chance, then it's still completely possible to abandon the project. There are more variables than either of us care to admit, so if the conclusion is reached and it is neither good nor bad, that can't be unexpected."

"You said we either succeed or we fail," Kaneki said confusedly. "Is that not true, then?"

"No, it's true enough." Yoshitoki sounded distant now. "It'd be sad to have to terminate the project and cut all ties with it. I'd call that a failure, wouldn't you?" Kaneki heard Yoshitoki shifting on the phone. "That doesn't mean it has to end with your death. Believe it or not, Kaneki, we don't want to kill you."

Why was hearing those words so strange? We don't want to kill you. He'd been living the past few weeks, months, feeling like the CCG was a final destination. Like he was going to be crushed by the immense weight of their expectations, like he couldn't change himself thoroughly enough even if he tried so he didn't try at all. He felt like a stranger here, like he'd be ostracized even if he wasn't so thoroughly pro-ghoul in an organization that specialized in eradicating the species.

He'd died once before. Maybe he was just begging to die again.

Was that why he'd come to the CCG? Was this just an elaborate suicide mission?

Did he want to die?

The worst part was, Kaneki couldn't even tell. If someone asked, he'd say no, but could that really be the truth? He was certainly scared of dying, but could he say, with a certainty, that he wouldn't be happier if he were dead?

This was such a consistent, bothersome quarrel inside his head that he sometimes forgot it wasn't really normal. People didn't think about dying like this. People didn't bargain with death on a regular basis like him.

"Right," Kaneki said vacantly. "You're right. So… anyway, I'll just keep you informed, then?"

"That'll work. Have a good day, Kaneki."

"You too, sir."

Kaneki waited for the other line to click before he hung up. He felt jittery, like there were ants skittering wildly beneath his skin. Yoshimura had confirmed that Anteiku would back this plan, and Yoshitoki confirmed that he was still in. So what was left?

Get a mole into Aogiri.

Die a little inside? Maybe.

When Kaneki returned inside, finding his way back to the gym, he was alarmed to find Amon chatting amiably with Mutsuki. They hadn't really spoken since Kaneki's release from Cochlea, and the incident with Arima. Kaneki felt like Amon probably hated him. And who could blame him?

"Amon." Kaneki smiled at him, but he knew it was just so dull and lifeless. Perhaps Amon recognized his sadness, because he managed a small smile in return. "What's up? Why are you here?"

"Amon came to give us our quinque," Mutsuki piped up. He didn't sound very enthusiastic, but that was probably because he was nervous. Kaneki just didn't know how to feel.

"Oh, wow." He was a little chilled when Amon picked up a white briefcase and offered it out to him. Like ice had gotten into his bloodstream, and it was only a matter of time before he completely froze over. "Already?"

"It's been a week," Amon said, his brow furrowing. "These quinques were pre-made, so it was mostly an assessment of your personality and physical capabilities that determined your quinque type."

"Awesome. What the hell is this?" He pointed to the briefcase dully, knowing fully well what it was, while Mutsuki stood with a large eye, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Was he scared of Amon or something?

"Your quinque is in this." Amon's arm was outstretched, the briefcase hanging limply from his fist as he offered it. What an offering. What did this mean for Kaneki? Up until now, the whole dove thing hadn't felt real. But now he had a quinque. "Feel free to open it. It won't bite."

"Ha ha," Kaneki sighed, "very funny."

He took the briefcase gingerly, his fingers hooking around the handles as he pulled it close. Mutsuki's briefcase was relatively smaller. He had it resting beneath his legs, which were pulled up toward his chest. Kaneki knelt down beside him, thumbing the latch of the briefcase before snapping it.

"It's called Tsunagi," Amon said as Kaneki reached into the case and retrieved a smooth, hilt-less longsword. "Bikaku, rank C. You'll have to get used to fighting with it, since swordplay isn't exactly widely practiced, but I doubt you'll have much difficulty. I was told that you were requested a sword quinque."

"I didn't request anything," Kaneki said hoarsely, the sword lying flat against his lap. He didn't feel as disgusted as he thought he'd be. Maybe that was because he didn't actually care as much as he wished he did.

I ate ghouls, he recalled, lots and lots of ghouls. Do I care? Do I really fucking care? I know what they taste like. I'm not better than any investigator here. I'm just so much worse.

"Someone else requested it for you." Amon looked down at him. Then, without warning, he crouched onto the floor. Both Mutsuki and Kaneki jumped as he got himself comfortable, shrugging off his suitcoat and setting it aside. "Don't ask me the details, Kaneki, I'm not at the main headquarters anymore."

"Oh. Well, sorry, it's not like I have any real idea what's going on here." Kaneki ran his fingers over the blade of the quinque. It was strange to think that this had once been a kagune. What would a quinque made of my kagune look like? It was a thought not unlike the ones that came before it, the musings of death and if he wanted it or not.

"I'm going to take you with me sometime when I go to lecture," Amon muttered, squinting at Kaneki's face. "Maybe a classroom setting will help things stick."

"Oh, please do!" Kaneki clapped his hands together in faux excitement. "And when all the kids ask you who I am, I can demonstrate what it'd be like to meet a real live ghoul!"

"Why must you consistently ruin nice things, Kaneki?" Amon sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose irritably. "You make it so hard to communicate. We're still coworkers, you know, even if we have differing opinions. If we don't learn how to trust each other, it might end up getting someone hurt down the line."

"I trust you, Amon," Kaneki said gently. It was a lie, yes. The worst kind of lie, really.

A lie that he wanted to be true.

It hurt to be such a godawful liar.

And Amon, being the gentle, gullible man that he was, looked so pleasantly surprised.

Kaneki felt so bad.

He felt so, so, so, so, so fucking bad.

Why was he like this? Why couldn't he just be honest, and not blurt out lies just to soothe someone else's ego?

"That's good to hear, Kaneki," Amon said quietly, "but I think I need you to prove it."

His fingers closed around the grip of the sword. He had nothing more to say.

Mutsuki retrieved his briefcase from beneath his legs, laying it out in front of him and pressing his fingers against the latches. When he opened it, he was cautious and slow, barely making any sound as he let the box fall open. There were two knives within it. He took one out and let it lie in both his hands.

"Daggers?" Mutsuki looked a little unsure. Maybe he was thinking about how close he'd have to be with someone to engage in combat.

"Scorpion, 2/56 issued. Bikaku, Rank B." Amon shrugged. "I'm not sure how the fit will be, but honestly you'll get used to it. If you lose one, we'll probably be able to replace it, so it's a good quinque to start with. You're small, so I think the basic assumption that small, short, close range attacks would suit you best."

"Ah." Mutsuki thumbed the flat end of the blade, looking puzzled. "I guess I get it. I'll try my best, Koutarou, sir."

"Oh," Kaneki gasped, looking up at Amon, "right. Thank you."

Amon glanced at him. He didn't look so much puzzled as he did curious. He smiled, and nodded. "It's no trouble, honestly." He offered up a slight shrug. "I wanted to see how you two were fairing. How are living arrangements?"

"Fine," Mutsuki said cautiously. Kaneki looked at him.

"Hey," he said. "You know if something's wrong you can just say something right? I'm not going to get angry if you have a complaint."

"I have no complaints," Mutsuki said.

Kaneki remained unconvinced. He and Amon shared a meaningful look, knowing that the other picked up on the resignation in Mutsuki's tone. What were they supposed to do? They couldn't drag the complaint out of him.

"What about the ghoul things?" Amon asked gently. "Are you uncomfortable in any way due to the surgery?"

"No." Mutsuki set his knife back into the case and shut it carefully. "My appetite is the same. I have to keep going to regular checkups, but apparently I'm normal."

He didn't sound so happy about that.

"Is that a bad thing?" Kaneki asked tentatively.

Mutsuki sighed. He wrung his hands in his lap. "It's… not. Not really…" He pressed his lips together thinly, and he shook his head. "It's just, you know, I think I might be a little too normal. Compared to you, Kaneki, my RC levels are so low, I might as well be a regular human. I don't think anyone's happy about that."

The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end. "Oh," he said softly.

Amon looked disturbed.

Truly, deeply disturbed.

"What's so wrong with being human?" Amon asked in a voice that Kaneki thought was a little too strong. He shouldn't use such a booming voice with Mutsuki, not when the boy was clearly dealing with a lot of internal stress. "I've been debriefed on this project, and the motive was clear. A human with surgically implanted quinque. Do they expect you to lose your humanity?"

"I don't know," Mutsuki gasped, leaning away sharply. "I just… I feel like I'm not what they wanted. Like I'm a prototype, and I went wrong. I wouldn't be surprised if they found someone better. Stronger."

"If they wanted that, they should never have put Kaneki in jeopardy in the first place," Amon said heatedly. "No. I think you're wrong. They don't want another Kaneki— that'd be too messy and too unethical. Kaneki is a human, and no one wants to see what happened to him happen to anyone else."

Mutsuki raised his eyes, shooting a glance at Kaneki when Amon said the word "human." As though he had his doubts. And, granted, he had every right to doubt. Kaneki had adamantly declared himself a ghoul before this boy on multiple occasions. He had every right to be disturbed.

"Okay," Kaneki said guiltily, "granted, I did fuck up."

"Well, yes, Kaneki, we all know that," Amon sighed, closing his eyes so they wouldn't see them roll back into his skull. Too fucking late, buddy. They saw it. Mutsuki turned his face away to hide a smirk. Kaneki just felt like a loser. "I just mean that you are consistently being weighed as either a dangerous threat or a powerful asset, and frankly, I think your life shouldn't be hanging in the balance while you're risking it for the sake of the people who are considering terminating it."

Kaneki was shocked. He stared at Amon, his mouth falling open, and he tried to form a proper response, but all he could really do was smile.

Amon wasn't a mindless follower of a monolithic ghoul slaying machine. He did have opinions. He did have a conscience. He did care about Kaneki, even if his morals were stringent and his mind was stubborn.

"Ah…" Amon seemed to deflate, his voice lowering quite a bit as he tried to shrink himself. Perhaps he felt like he needed to become smaller here, like he might intimidate them. Because they were younger and compared to him, everything was small, so he needed to adjust to that. "Sorry, Kaneki. I don't want to scare you. You're not in any real danger."

"It's fine, Amon," Kaneki said in the kindest voice he could manage. Because he really was touched that Amon still cared. Even after their arguments, and clearly differentiating ideals, Amon still cared. "Thank you."

He looked down at the sword in his lap. It wasn't really hitting him yet what he'd be using it for.

Home was such an abstract concept. Where was home? What was it? Where did it come from? Where did it go? It was not a place, but a feeling, and that feeling was so easily lost or misplaced. She'd had that feeling with her father and Ayato. In that little apartment on that narrow little street, where she'd loop her fingers through the wire fence and press her face in the metal until the scent of corrosion made her dizzy. It had been a three meter chunk of backyard, tufts of grass growing beneath concrete slabs, half a dozen potted plants resting up against the rusting fence, terracotta clay still as vibrant and warm as the day it'd been formed. It had been her bare feet on the back porch, the heat from the concrete radiating against her skin. It had been Ayato's face pressed to her back, his arms around her waist, and his voice whittling away at her mind, until it became incessant, unceasing, echoing in the caverns it had made there forever and ever.

Home had been a place because home had been a person.

And then it changed. Like all good things, it was swept away by time, ripped from her fingertips and washed down a drain. There was no salvaging a childhood once it faded. There was no stepping back once the road began to crumble. There was no tucking her wings back into her skin and wishing she'd never needed to use their power.

When had home become so foreign? A feeling that didn't quite reach her heart, like she was missing a piece of herself somewhere. They'd come to an agreement with Yoshimura, hopping from place to place, making a mess of things, and eventually coming to live under his roof. Touka hadn't been offered a job yet, and their residence had, at the time, seemed temporary.

And then weeks went by. Months. Touka started calling Anteiku "home" without realizing. Touka had gotten scared. Because Ayato had gotten angry.

"That place isn't home," he'd snapped. "We don't even have a home! The old man doesn't even want us!"

And what could she say? Could she have disagreed? It felt like he'd been lying, and she usually could pick out those types of things, but he'd just become so distant that it was hard. Was he lying intentionally, or did he really just think that was the truth?

"You're wrong," she'd replied quietly.

And he'd stomped off.

Home.

Anteiku. Home. Hers, but not his. That had been the rift. What had been the cataclysm? What had been the straw that broke the camel's back, the inevitable final blow that had pushed her brother to run away?

She didn't know.

That was the trouble with broken relationships. You didn't get a clear picture of how they'd broken or why. All you had were the pieces, shattered in a pretty little mess on the floor. It was like someone had knocked your favorite vase off its pedestal while you were away, and you'd come home to find all the pieces scattered all around, and there was no sense to it, only resignation and sadness. You just scraped the shards up into a dust pan and threw them away.

Relationships ended and began all the time. Why was she so fickle? Why were people so endlessly destructive with how they treated one another? She didn't want this. She didn't want to feel so bad about something that had been beyond her control.

But had it?

Whose fault had it really been that her brother had left?

Ayato was stubborn and mean. He was a little shit, a scrappy little puppy who was all bite and bark and could only seem to rip apart the prettiest fabric he could get his fucking muzzle on. He wasn't sweet, or cute, or fun to be around.

But she missed him.

She hated that! She hated feeling that she'd failed him somehow by letting him go, by being angry with him for leaving, for not following him and pining for his approval! She hated that she wanted to have his approval, when he was the younger one, when he was the one who needed her guidance. She hated that she couldn't have him back, that she couldn't protect him anymore. That he was somewhere, all alone, doing his own thing, probably sullying any sort of innocence he'd had left. She hated him. She hated herself. And she hated that all that was left between them was hate.

Sometimes she felt like the only thing alive in her was hate. Why was that?

Making coffee didn't calm her nerves. Talking to Yoriko didn't slow her thoughts. Helping Hinami read didn't make her feel like a better person. Taking a bath didn't wash away the achy hollowness that had resurfaced somehow from deep with her, a hole that she had forgotten had been there, a chasm that she'd neglected to fill.

This was such a hopeless feeling. She couldn't shake it. Like she was being swallowed up by her own loss. She wanted to wallow in it, to sit in this bathtub forever, to talk with Yoriko forever, to smile at Hinami forever, but it wasn't possible, and knowing that weighed down the experience. She was caught. She was trapped. Her emotions were dueling each other, and instead of besting the other, they both just collapsed, leaving her feeling so fucking empty. She was just hollow. Vacant. What was she?

She wanted fire, and all she got was the static screech of an old television set.

Where was she? She didn't feel like she was in Anteiku. It didn't feel like she should be in Anteiku. She couldn't explain it, but she wanted it to stop. How did you get this kind of numbness to go away? She knew what people did to feel numb. They drank, they drugged themselves, they fucked, they washed their worried down the drain, but she couldn't do that.

She wished her worries actually worried her. She wished she cared about school, about upcoming exams, about maintaining contact with Yoriko, who'd been texting her nonstop for hours on end. She replied in solid, one word sentences. Yoriko asked if she was okay, and Touka replied that she was fine. Because that was the safe thing. If she said she wasn't fine, that she'd started to lose sight of why she was here, why she wasn't dragging Ayato tooth and nail away from people who might hurt him, what would Yoriko say? She'd just pester her for more info. Grill her, poke her, prod her, beg her to open up, and if she did, if she told the truth, then it would only lead to trouble. Or heartache. Or, mercilessly, both.

Worry, worry, worry. Could she worry? Could she care? Was there an ounce of her left to spare for that sort of thing? Memories were making her feel so much like a child, and she couldn't tell if it was a bad thing, because on one hand she was recollecting sensations, smells, even the sound of her father's voice as it rung through their tiny kitchen, but on the other hand she was losing herself in the nostalgia, crippled by a sense of loneliness that she couldn't really comprehend, so she ignored it.

This was way too much.

What did she do?

It was like she just couldn't fucking stop. Like she was watching herself start to fall apart, but she couldn't stop it because she felt no real connection to herself and the person who sunk deeper and deeper into the water and wished for a resolution the float inside her mouth like lukewarm water that she could just spit out.

"Big Sis," Hinami gasped, raising her head as Touka walked out of the bathroom with hair dripping against her neck and an oversized sweatshirt hugging her thighs. She yanked on her sneakers. "Where are you going?"

"Just for a run." It was easy to say things. She turned her face and shot Hinami a quick smile. "I'll be back in a bit, kay? Just watch some TV if you can't sleep while I'm gone."

"Ah… no thanks," Hinami laughed nervously, "I think I'd rather read."

Touka found herself making a face. "Yeesh," she muttered, yanking her hood over her head. "That Takatsuki shit again? Whatever, Hina. Just don't come crying to me when you have nightmares."

"I won't have nightmares!" Hinami shouted, her voice firm and determined. Touka snorted, and she left the apartment, taking the steps down into the back of the shop to exit through the alley. If Yoshimura heard her, he didn't try to stop her.

It hadn't been a lie. She did go running.

Night running was a lot nicer than day running. It made the city seem so much more alive, like an organism that fed and breathed, lights freckling its face and serpentine streets veining its body. It felt like a cyclops, and she was a sheep, and if she made a wrong move it would take her in its fist and devour her.

Maybe this city was as ghoulish as she was.

It was pretty damn cold, actually, now that she was outside and running. Her sneakers chafed her skin uncomfortably, but it wasn't like she was going to get blisters. It'd be funny if something as mundane as a shoe could break her skin.

The wind was kissing her bare cheeks, biting and harsh, like being grazed by the knuckles of an ice sculpture. She'd keep running even if it killed her, which was admittedly unlikely, but damn it, she would!

It had been about two days since Yomo had laid the news on her. Shouldn't her defense mechanism of closing shit out and not actually letting anything bother her just… kick in by now? She didn't feel anything, and it was driving her nuts. It bothered her. Ayato being part of all this madness bothered her, but she couldn't do anything about it.

She couldn't fight Aogiri. She couldn't fight the CCG.

She was stuck.

In the fucking middle.

Waiting to see how this all played out.

She couldn't handle that. She'd go insane.

The doves intended on wiping out Aogiri. Nishiki was going to help. And none of those assholes were going to care about taking prisoners. She had to rationalize.

She had to do something fucking drastic.

Touka didn't know what to call this. It was manic, and it was mad, and she was going to sorely regret it. But that didn't stop her. Honestly, that thought fueled her. It was like she needed to know that she would be able to feel regret in the future, and that was such a reassurance that she didn't even fucking care.

She ended up tapping on Kaneki Ken's window. Because why the hell not?

The windowsill was big enough that she could chill on it. The fire escape was also close, so she didn't really have to try hard to get up here. It was a nice spot. She felt like she could come up here to think, if she were the type of person who could do that for longer than three minutes without going nuts.

A face appeared in the window. She glanced at him, and realized very quickly that it was not Kaneki.

"Mutsuki?" she gasped, pulling off her hood to peer closer. "Oh. Shit! Oh man!"

Mutsuki looked alarmed, and slightly terrified. He tentatively pulled open the window. "Touka…?" He looked hopelessly confused. "Um… what are you…?"

"Do you live here now?" She stuck her head into Kaneki's room. Yep, just as small as she remembered. "Both of you? Doesn't that get cramped?"

"W-well—!" Mutsuki stumbled back as she crouched on the windowsill carefully, the balls of her feet rocking as she gripped the window frame and frowned. "I mean, yes, but it's not really—!"

"Stop, stop, I get it." She glanced up at him, and shrugged. "When I was little, my brother and I didn't even have our own beds, it's not a big deal. But why are you and Kaneki living together?"

"Why are you in our third story window?" Mutsuki blurted, looking as though he couldn't contain himself any longer. He flushed, but he looked absolutely firm in this, like he needed an answer. "Where did you even come from?"

"The road?" Touka offered weakly. It was so weak. So weak. "No offense, I'm sure you're cool, but where's the asshole himself? I need to talk to him."

Mutsuki looked absolutely puzzled. "Kaneki, you mean…?" He was taken aback. Perhaps he'd never considered Kaneki to be an asshole. What a nice kid. God, how old was he anyway? Every time Touka looked at him he looked younger. "You really think he's an asshole?"

"I think he's entitled and doesn't actually know what he's doing ever," she said flatly.

"You really don't like him?" Mutsuki stared at her, his eyes wide. She wondered about his eyepatch not for the first time.

"It's not… that…" Touka dropped down from her perch, stretching her legs. Kaneki's room smelled like old books and stale coffee. "He's just annoying. Look, I don't have to explain anything to you."

"Okay…?" Mutsuki held up his hands and backed away slowly. "But… um… Miss Touka…" She cringed. Touka-san made her sound so old coming from his mouth. "Why are you here, really? If you don't really care for Kaneki, then I… don't really get why you came to his window…"

Well, she thought dully, using the door would be too practical, wouldn't it, kiddo? Damn it. She felt like such a fool.

"Used the door last time," she said in a thoughtless, heated voice. "Didn't really work out so well for me. I think the window is just a better route in general."

"That…?" He was clearly confused and taken aback, which was understandable because Touka was making no sense whatsoever, and she was fine with that, she didn't come here to make sense, but part of her felt bad. Like, guilty for just being such a godless bitch to this boy. Because she was angry, or maybe she just wanted to be angry, so she was trying to take it out on him.

"Whatever," she muttered, blowing her damp hair out of her eye and brushing past him. "I don't have to tell you anything."

"No, you don't!" Mutsuki gasped. "I'm— I'm really sorry."

"Oh my god," she muttered, shooting him a sharp glance. "For what? I'm just busting your ass right now, Mutsuki, calm down."

"Oh…"

"Oh my god," she repeated, closing her eyes. She was awful. This kid was awful. Everyone was so fucking awful.

"I—!"

"Don't apologize!" Touka held up both her hands, and then she whisked them through her hair, feeling it crimp beneath her fingers. It would not look pretty when it dried, and she felt like she should care, but she didn't. "Fuck! Who even are you? Why are you here? Are you a ghoul? Are you human? What the fuck is your deal?"

Mutsuki's mouth fell open, and he shrunk back. There was distinct shuffling coming from behind the door, like Kaneki had jumped to his feet at the sound of shouting. But Mutsuki had composed himself, his jaw tightening and his eyelid drooping as he watched her. He looked sad.

"You and Hinami," he said very softly, as if applying a cool cloth to a burn, "are ghouls. Right?"

Touka bristled.

Oh. Fuck. Fuck!

Had she just made a giant fucking mistake?

He smells like Kaneki, Hinami had said, her voice soft and vacant, dead and dull and dragging across Touka's brain.

Touka heard the doorknob twist. She was scared. Even in this state of mind, this off-center sort of existence that made her feel all beside herself and above herself and behind herself, like she was leaving bits of her heart in the past and tossing the rest into the uncertain future. Even with all these feelings being buried deep down under a cloud of vacancy, she was terrified.

So she reached forward. She reached, her fingers brushing the boy's cheek. She saw the way his eye flashed, the horror and confusion that glistened there. It made her feel so fucking bad. Like she was a villain in a fairy tale, like she was all bad, all dark, made from the ugly things that crept in nightmares. She was bile and dust and greasy black smoke. She was the witch that fattened up little children before she ate them whole.

She tugged his eyepatch from his eye, tearing it off and taking three long strides back to get a look at his kakugan.

The door burst open, but she didn't care. She stared, the medical eyepatch dangling from her finger, and she exhaled shakily.

"Touka!" Kaneki had caught her around the shoulders and yanked her back, even though she'd put a good distance between herself and Mutsuki. She was angry. No, she was pissed!

"There's more of you?" she snapped, elbowing him in the stomach, her body coiling defensively. She didn't like that he was touching her. It didn't even feel like he was trying to restrain her, so much as he seemed to be hugging her back to his chest. "What the fuck? What the fuck, Kaneki! What did you do?"

"This wasn't me!" Kaneki gasped as she tore herself free and shoved him back against his bookshelf. There was still an empty space missing from when she'd stole Alice in Wonderland. "I didn't know this was happening!"

"What is this?" She heard her voice, which had lowered in octave, becoming sharp and biting. "What is happening? I swear, Kaneki, I swear if you don't tell me the truth—!"

"You wouldn't know if I was telling the truth or not," Kaneki said in a low, dull voice. He wasn't looking at her. He was staring past her face, into a grand abyss beyond her head. Like he'd lost connection too. "Calm down, Touka. Give me back the eyepatch."

"Tell me what's going on," she said flatly, pulling the eyepatch closer to her. "What are you hoping to achieve? With this?" She held up the eyepatch, shooting him a scathing look. "With this spy bullshit? How the hell are we supposed to trust you, Kaneki? All you do is keep secrets!"

"Touka, I haven't told you anything because, frankly, you don't know me!" Kaneki's voice was thin, his eyes dull and sad, and she realized he sounded desperate. Like this was the last thing he'd wanted. "I'd tell you anything if you seemed interested, but you're so—!"

Her nostrils flared in contempt. "What?" she snapped. "I'm so what?"

Kaneki slumped. He remained ungodly quiet, his eyes lowering toward the floor. That only made her angrier. Why didn't he just say it? Did he think it'd hurt her fucking feelings? Newsflash! She didn't care! She'd been called every fucking name imaginable at some point or another. What could this goddamn fool say to her that would hurt her?

"Mutsuki," Kaneki said quietly, "it's okay. She's fine, you don't have to be scared."

Touka whirled around, finding Mutsuki watching her warily with both eyes narrowed. His kakugan was veinless, his sclera like a hole in his skull and his iris like a blood moon. He'd backed away, but in his fist he held a small knife. What was that going to do?

Then it clicked.

"You're a dove too," she whispered. She took a step back. Kaneki caught her by the shoulders before she bumped into him, and in her terror she stumbled away, finding herself on the defensive. Why had she come here? Why was she so stupid?

"He's just a kid, Touka," Kaneki sighed, shaking his head. "You just scared him. Why do you have to be so mean? He can't make his kakugan go away, so he wears the eyepatch to feel more comfortable." He stepped toward her, and he offered out his hand. "Give it back."

She glanced back at Mutsuki sharply. "What do you mean he can't make it go away?" She found herself growing guiltier, her heart sinking into her chest as she realized what a grand fucking bitch she'd been. She had no excuse. She was just so tired, so angry, and so emptied of the emotions she craved. She wanted to go back in time, but she couldn't, so she was rejecting the present and damaging her future.

Kaneki held his hand out to her. She scowled at him, and dropped the eyepatch into it.

"Mutsuki," Kaneki said, "come here. Give me your quinque."

The boy didn't come right away. He seemed entirely too wary, like he didn't really know what to do, who he should listen to, but he was obedient nonetheless. He moved to Kaneki's side, handing the knife over without comment and taking his eyepatch back gratefully.

"Okay." Kaneki seemed to relax. "Good. Touka, apologize."

"What?" she asked flatly.

"Apologize to Mutsuki for being so rude." Kaneki had taken on such a scolding tone, she wanted to hit him. He sounded like a mom, like she was a little kid who'd shop lifted from a candy store.

Touka gritted her teeth. She glowered at Kaneki, and then turned sharply to face Mutsuki. "I'm sorry," she said stiffly. "Please don't report me."

She realized as she was speaking those words that it was necessary for her to say them. Mutsuki could ruin her life. He could ruin Anteiku.

All because she'd fucked up.

Mutsuki glanced at her, his eyes flickering over her face. She found her fingers clenching into fists, her arms folding around herself, as if that might protect her from the power these two held over her.

His expression softened so much that it seemed to become fuzzy. He bowed his head, holding his eyepatch gingerly in his fist.

"It's okay," he said quietly. "I won't tell anyone. I was never going to."

"But you were okay with killing me?" Touka's eyebrows raised. "Nice."

"No!" Mutsuki shook his head furiously. "No, I wasn't going to kill you! I just… you were scaring me. I'm sorry, I just wanted to make sure I could… get away, I guess…"

"Touka," Kaneki warned. "Mutsuki was raised to fear ghouls. You can't blame him for being defensive."

"I'm not mad." Touka had actually relaxed considerably. She looked Mutsuki in the eye, and shrugged. "I'd do the same."

And it was true. She'd kill Mutsuki if it meant keeping her secret.

Maybe he sensed that. And he understood. Because he smiled at her sadly. As he put his eyepatch on, Kaneki studied him curiously.

"You knew," he realized. "You knew the whole time that Touka was a ghoul."

Mutsuki glanced back at them. He offered a small shrug. "I suspected," he said. "But… you trusted her not to hurt me. And I trust you, Kaneki. So I won't tell anyone, okay? I promise."

Touka remained sort of unconvinced. She couldn't help but be distrustful. Wasn't that just her nature? Trust little, love less, hope the loneliness didn't devour her whole. And then the cycle repeated.

She felt so bad.

So, so bad.

There was no explanation. Was there even a solution?

Why was she here?

"Kaneki," she said, staring at a wall and feeling like she'd lost. "I need to talk to you."

"Huh? Oh." He nodded, glancing at Mutsuki. "Of course. Come—"

"I can leave." Mutsuki turned away and strode quickly toward the door. "I'm so sorry for all the trouble, Miss Touka."

"Ah… right…" She watched him close the bedroom door. She sunk into herself. She felt out of place. When she looked up at Kaneki, he was watching her intently. "What?"

"Oh," he gasped, averting his eyes quickly. "Sorry. I'm just… confused. Why did you come here, Touka?"

She exhaled sharply, biting at her cuticles. She needed to sit down. So she sat.

She needed to scream. So she closed her eyes, and she clamped her jaw shut.

"Touka?"

She was sitting on his bed, and she heard his voice floating nearby. She realized he was probably kneeling beside her, because she hadn't felt anyone sit on the bed, and she could tell he was eyelevel. She squeezed her hands in her lap.

"Touka, talk to me." Kaneki took on a specific sort of desperation whenever he talked to her. She noted that he always seemed to want to sound small beside her booming voice. Why? Why did he do this? It only made her want to punch him more. "You didn't come here just to yell at Mutsuki. Is everything okay?"

"No."

"Then talk to me."

"God," she spat, shooting him a furious glare. "Let me think, okay?"

"Okay." Kaneki stared at her, and then he lowered his gaze. "I'm sorry."

"Please… just shut the fuck up…" she murmured, covered her eyes with the balls of her hands. "Please…"

Thankfully, he did just that.

After a few minutes, she took a deep breath, and she dragged her hands down her face. "Oh my god…" she groaned. "This is so fucked up."

"What is?" Kaneki watched her. His eyes were soft and understanding. She stared at her lap. She laughed uneasily, and the sound was thick and shaky, like she was on the verge of tears.

"I feel like I'm being followed by ghosts," she whispered.

Kaneki's eyes were dark and tired, sunken into the hollows of his skull. His dark hair was unkempt, wild and knotted, as though he'd forgotten how to use a comb. He looked like he'd spent too many nights staring at the ceiling above them without blinking once. His body language conveyed all his sadness. All his exhaustion. All his fear.

There was a lot going on inside his head. She doubted that he'd ever open up even if they somehow became close.

"Ghosts, huh?" Kaneki smiled. He plopped against the floor, turning so he could lean his back up against the bed. "Yeah, I get that. Like all your desires and all your dreams turned into something real, and now they gnaw at your mind until there's nothing else really left but a hollow longing for something you can never have."

"What was it like?" she asked quietly. "Being human, I mean, like… what was it like to just feel freedom? To never be scared? To live in a fat and happy ignorance?"

"It was…" Kaneki sunk, his hands closing between his knees. "Do you want the truth, Touka?"

She scoffed. "Yes."

He stared at the opposite wall.

"I wasn't happy," he said calmly. "When I was human, I was only ever loved by one person. I didn't feel like I had a purpose. It was like I was just dragging everyone around me down, so I never made meaningful relationships aside from the one I already had. If Hide were anyone else, my personality probably would have just shooed him off." He looked up at her, and he smiled. "Before I came to Anteiku, I think I was just really very sad."

"And now you're part of the CCG," she whispered. "And your life is just peachy?"

"No, the CCG sucks." Kaneki closed his eyes, resting his head back against the bed beside her. "Everyone's after something there, and I can't tell what the endgame is. I don't think the people who work there know everything that they should, and I don't think the higher ups are as moral as they're portrayed in like, the media and stuff. From what I've seen so far, the organization is a beast in itself. It's effective, and the workers are really diligent and good at what they do, but it feels like everyone on the upper management has their own agenda."

"Is that how you struck this dumb deal?" Touka squinted at him. "You appealed to some crusty old man's lust for power?"

"Essentially." Kaneki shrugged. "I can't be sure if it'll work. We're both banking a whole lot on it, so it's not like either of us are going to trick the other. If it goes downhill, I will probably die, and he will probably lose his job, his respect, and his influence. Maybe even his inheritance? I'm not quite sure, but it's a big deal."

That was something new to her. Hearing it come from Kaneki made her feel somewhat at ease. Like the plan wasn't as ludicrous as it had once sounded.

"Yomo said that Nishiki is going to be your spy," she said. "Why him?"

Kaneki opened his eyes, and he glanced up at her bemusedly. "He's just the best option," he said. "His life is already in shambles, he has a great excuse to be joining Aogiri, and frankly no one would suspect he was feeding info to the CCG since, you know, the CCG almost killed him."

It was smart. She couldn't deny that. It made so much sense, and she hated it.

"I want to do it," she declared.

Wait.

What?

Had she gone fucking insane?

Kaneki jerked upright, twisting around to face her with his eyes so huge that they made his face look infinitely younger. His mouth fell open, and he searched her face.

"Touka, no," he gasped.

"What do you mean, 'Touka, no?'" She straightened up, her jaw setting. "You can't tell me what I can and can't do. I want to do it."

"Touka, do you understand how dangerous this is?" Kaneki gasped, on his knees before her, looking ready to fucking pray. "Nishiki's only doing it because we don't have any other viable options! His life is already over, so it's not like he's uprooting himself. You have a life! You have school, and friends, and Anteiku!"

"They'll still be here," she said calmly. Why was she speaking so calmly? Why didn't she feel like screaming anymore? What was this? "I'll run away. Kids do it all the time. Yoshimura will have to report it so he doesn't look suspicious. The police will come, ask questions. Yoshimura will just have to say that I was a troubled kid, that I had trouble with school, that I was angry and mean, and my brother was just the same. When I come back, it'll be like, well, whatever." She shrugged. "People disappear all the time, Kaneki. Nobody will be that sad if it's me."

"That's a fucking lie," he snapped.

"I don't care!" She leapt to her feet. "I'm going to do it. I'm going to do this, and you can't stop me. Tell fucking Nishiki that he can kiss my ass for saving his!"

She marched up to the open window, and she jumped onto the sill. She heard Kaneki calling her name behind her, but she didn't care. She'd already made up her mind.

It was gonna be fucking hard for anyone to change it.

Chapter Text

How did the left become the leaver, anyway?

What had pushed her to this point?

Her every waking moment from here on would be filled with regret. She couldn't deny that. She'd pay a hundred times over for her sins simply for caring. Or was it the opposite?

Did she just care too little?

Did she even care at all?

Who she hurt? Who hurt her?

She felt like she needed to dig deep within herself. Beneath the muscle, between the blood and guts and bone, and figure out who the hell she was and who the hell she wanted to be.

"Now, what's your name again?"

Hinami's thin shoulders were splattered black. It looked like a demon had gurgled up bile and vomited it onto her head, thick rivulets as of inky liquid sliding down her neck and collarbone. Her little shoulders rose up. They dropped.

"Fuji Hina," she said softly, wiggling in discomfort. Touka tried to pat down her back with a towel, but it just made her grimace. "I'm thirteen years old. I'm homeschooled. I live with my cousin here, at Anteiku, because my mom works internationally."

"Good." Touka's fingers were stained black. She glanced at the instructions on the box bemusedly, dark streaks smearing across the face of the uncannily attractive smiling woman on the front. Ah, she probably should have worn gloves. Now the tips of her fingers were blackened, dark water coagulating around her finger nails. "Yuck."

"Big sis, is it supposed to look like this?" Hinami asked weakly, glancing at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was in a jumbled mess upon her head, wet and dripping with hair dye. Her entire scalp was black.

"Yeah, don't worry." Touka glanced away, choking on her own lie. She had no idea what she was doing. "I'll let you do mine sometime."

"Really?" Hinami sounded so eager, her head twisting up so she could meet Touka's eye.

"Yeah," she said thoughtfully. "Maybe I'll go lilac at some point. Or like, a nice teal color maybe? Or baby blue. Something like that."

"Ahhh!" Hinami clapped her hands together excitedly. "So pretty!"

"Okay," Touka said, pushing her shoulders back gently. "Let's wash this shit out."

"Mm, okay!"

Touka hadn't told her yet.

How did you even tell someone you were abandoning them?

It was so hard. Especially for Touka, who knew exactly how it felt to be left behind without warning.

Doing this to Hinami was so cruel. She knew that. But she was doing it anyway.

Why? Why was she doing this? Why didn't she just back down? Kaneki certainly didn't want her to do it. Yoshimura would disapprove, when he found out. She was throwing away her life, essentially, and for what?

For Ayato?

Was she really that deluded to think that he would fucking care?

A voice was whispering in her brain.

Why do you hate being happy?

What a miserable existence she intentionally led.

Hinami's hair didn't look that bad. Like, it was hard to fuck up black hair, but Touka had tried to cut it beforehand, and now her bangs were awkward and uneven. She spent the remainder of the night scrubbing her fingers while Hinami soaked in the tub, both of them ardently attempting to rid themselves of the black stains.

She was trying to figure out how to deal with Yoriko, first and foremost.

Did she just stop talking to her?

That was really cruel. And Yoriko would get worried, too. Come knocking on Touka's door, trying to figure out what the hell was wrong. And all she'd receive would be Hinami. What a nightmare.

She thought about just simply leaving. Going off on her own without a word. That would be easier. Right now, scrubbing the dye from beneath her nails, she was filled with an irrefutable dread. Talking would make it worse. Talking about it, she knew, would cause her to consider all the possible outcomes of this divinely fucked up situation, and if she thought about that, then she'd just go fucking insane with the revelation that she had no idea what she was fucking doing.

Hinami fell asleep on the couch, black hair curling around her cheeks, and Touka could only stare. Because there was a twisting sort of ache inside her stomach, the kind of coiling pain that came with buckling concern.

Who would take care of Hinami after she was gone?

There was an abrupt, vicious pounding on her door, which alarmed her to the point where she nearly smashed her head on a cabinet above the sink. She flicked the faucet off and rushed to the door, her eyes glued to Hinami's stirring body. She yanked the door open and shot a fierce glower at whoever decided to pound the ever loving fuck out of her door.

"Yo," Nishio Nishiki spat. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses. She'd forgotten he'd bleached his hair, and the white curls fell against his forehead as he lowered his chin to glare at her. "So what's this bullshit about you wanting to be a fucking spy?"

She shoved him back into the hall and gingerly closed the door behind her.

"What?" Nishiki threw his arms out. "What is it?"

"You're being too damn loud," Touka hissed, yanking him by the arm and dragging him down the hall. "What the hell do you even want?"

"What do you think I want?" He yanked his arm from her grasp, pushing her shoulders sharply and causing her to stumble away from him. "You're a crazy fucking bitch, you know that?"

"I'm well aware, you shitty nerd," she snapped. "Yes. I'm fucking crazy. Thanks so much for that goddamn assessment."

"Why would you tell Kaneki that you'll be the spy?" Nishiki's jaw set, and she watched him fold his arms across his chest, his eyes averting. "You're an idiot."

"Yeah?" She offered a meager shrug. "I don't give a shit what you think, okay? Like, shouldn't you be glad?" She rolled her eyes. Her mouth was dry. "I'm saving your ass here, pal."

"You think you're helping me?" He barked a cynical little laugh that pattered on the corners of the walls and dripped down like wet paint. "Man, you must have some distorted image of what "helping" means."

"Do you really want to go be a spy?" Touka asked flatly.

"Of course not," he scoffed. "And you do?"

Touka bristled, her jaw setting furiously.

"Exactly." He shook his head. White curls shifted in the dim light. Shadows danced upon the hall floors, writhing beneath their feet. "You don't want to do this. No one wants to do this."

"But it has to be done," she muttered, "right? Like, someone is gonna do it. Someone has to."

"It doesn't have to be you."

Yes it does. Her thoughts were clogged with dust, and her eyes were crusted with scales. She wanted to rub it all away.

"I know I seem like the shittier choice," she admitted. She leaned back against the wall, stuffing her stained hands into the pockets of her sweatshirt. "Like, okay. You're smarter than me. Whatever. Your life went down the toilet because of the CCG. Yeah, that's true. But like, you're personality? Man, it's so fucking shitty."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Touka met his eye, and she smirked. "You're just a waste of oxygen, Nishio Nishiki. Actual garbage. Who's going to accept you? Trust you?"

"Because your personality is all fucking daisies and feathers!" He whisked his fingers through his hair, his breath a short, sharp exhalation, like a knife whistling through the air. "You're throwing your life away, you know that? Do you fucking understand that, Touka?"

"I've come to grasp that fact, yes."

"And you don't care?" Nishiki's eyes flashed wide. "Are you for real? You have a nice life, the kind of stability lots of ghouls would kill for. And you're giving that all up. For what? What the hell is in this for you?"

"Nothing," she said simply. "I don't get any prizes or praise for this. I know that. I'm not doing it for me, Nishiki."

He stared at her blankly, studying her features with a sudden spike in interest. Like he needed to memorize her facial structure, the way her nose turned, the breadth of her cheekbones. She felt like she was being scrutinized, his eyes peeling back the layers of her skin, piercing through bone, and picking at the surface of her brain until they found exactly what she was afraid of.

"Oh. I get it." Nishiki was watching her now with some irritating mixture of awe and pity. "There's someone you care about involved."

Touka grimaced, wrapping her arms tightly around herself.

"You shouldn't feel obligated to protect them," Nishiki sighed. "Like, if they're part of this shit show then maybe you should just let the doves pick 'em off."

"It's my brother, Nishiki," Touka said coolly.

He looked slightly taken aback and immediately remorseful. His mouth opened, and it shut. She did not feel satisfied with this development. She felt cold and worn out.

Nishiki took a deep breath. He rested his back against the wall beside her, staring out into space.

"Fuck," he uttered softly.

She did not respond. She concurred wholeheartedly.

"Touka," Nishiki said, glancing at her sharply. "Don't do it."

"What?"

"Your brother is probably a little punk," he said firmly. "Don't throw your life away because he did."

"This isn't up for debate," she snapped, pushing off the wall and rounding on him. "Newsflash, buddy, I don't give a fuck what you think!"

"Clearly." Nishiki's hands had balled into fists. "Don't do it, Touka."

"Did you honestly think that you coming here was gonna do a thing to change my mind?" She scoffed. "You're way more stupid that I thought. Which is saying a whole lot."

"What if you get hurt? What if he finds out that you're a traitor?" Nishiki's hands clapped against her shoulder, and she jumped. "Touka, I get that he's you brother and shit, like I know why you care, but what if he ends up hating you?"

"He already hates me." Touka shoved him back, and she allowed herself to take a few strides away from him. She needed room to breathe. "Stop. Stop acting like you care so much."

"What the fuck is wrong with me caring?"

"It's weird, and it feels fake. Stop forcing yourself to lecture me about this stuff." She raised her head up high. "Do you feel guilty? Let me soothe your ego. I'm not doing this for you. I'm not doing this for me either. I can't tell you why I decided to do it, but I can tell you that I have to. So quit this bullshit, Nishiki. I am doing this. So you can walk your skinny ass right back to Yomo and tell him you're sticking around."

"And what, exactly, are you doing, Touka?"

A sudden chill ran through her, sinking into her bones and causing her to freeze up. All her muscles were tense, all her organs clenching, to the point where she felt like she'd been seized by a giant hand and was being squeezed until her eyeballs popped out.

She saw Nishiki's face. He looked surprised. She knew he'd meant well, trying to come here and bicker with her until she relented but now he'd really fucked her over.

Maybe that's what he wanted.

"Did you not tell him?" Nishiki eyed her suspiciously. When she didn't respond, her body coiling back, he laughed. It was a bitter little sound. "Figures! Were you just going to leave without telling anyone?"

"No." It wasn't a lie, really, was it? She had considered doing that, but she hadn't actually decided yet! So it wasn't really a lie. Right?

"Nishiki." Yoshimura was hovering close to her back, his shadow yawning over her. "Why don't we go downstairs? The shop is closed for the night, and I'd like to hear more about this… leaving."

Touka actually gulped.

As she sat in the stool at the counter, she was reminded of when she'd first come here. She and Ayato had sat in these chairs, staring glumly up at Yoshimura as he'd poured them coffee and given them a stern lecture. Now Nishiki was next to her, and she had a feeling this wouldn't be so different.

The smell of freshly brewed coffee always made her nerves tingle. It alerted her senses, drove her to sit up straight, talk slower, more precisely, and smile even when she felt like she needed to rip out someone's spine. It was a happy sort of conditioning. She enjoyed the ease she felt when she was in this atmospheric cloud of steam and the crisp aroma.

She squeezed her hands together in her lap, watching Yoshimura set a cup before her.

"Now," he said, wiping his wizened hands off gingerly against a rag. "Please explain."

"Touka wants to take my place as the spy," Nishiki told him curtly.

Yoshimura's eyes slid to Touka's face. She took the cup from its dish, the heat pressing deeply through the pads of her fingers and into her bones, and she took a great gulp. It was scalding as it washed down her throat, threatening to flay the first layer of skin off the roof of her mouth.

"Is that so?" His brow was heavy as he watched her. "Touka, may I ask why?"

She slumped forward, her cup cradled in her hands.

"Ayato," she said quietly.

Yoshimura inhaled sharply. And then, without warning, he smiled.

She stiffened as his hand clapped against the crown of her head. Her heart was arrested and her skin was prickling from the rising gooseflesh. She felt warm.

"We all have the desire to protect the ones we love," he sighed. "It is a pure, instinctual facet of both humans and ghouls. We will do… reckless, painful, unsightly things for our loved ones. Those things may not always be the right things."

"It doesn't matter what's right or what's wrong," Touka said hoarsely. "If I cared about that, I wouldn't be potentially helping the doves wipe out a bunch of ghouls. Frankly, I… I don't care. I just want to make sure that when it comes down to it, Ayato is safe."

Yoshimura removed his hand from her head, and it left her feeling cold and empty.

"I cannot command you," he said sadly. "I can't tell you to go to your room, to forget all of this. Nor am I deluded enough to even presume I have the capability to change your mind. But I will tell you my personal feelings." He closed his eyes, and he bowed his head. "Losing you, Touka, will cause me immense pain."

She felt nauseous.

Why did she feel so sick? Why did his words strike her like a hammer to her ribs? Why did everything seem like it was spinning? Why did this have to hurt her?

Her throat was aching. She swallowed thickly, looking down into her lap to avoid staring into Yoshimura's eyes.

Then, without warning, she met his gaze sharply.

"You won't lose me," she told him firmly.

He smiled at her in a way that suggested he already had.

"Did you know the penalty for harboring a ghoul is actual prison time?"

Both Kaneki and Mutsuki froze at once, their bodies stiffening in a similarly shrinking manner, and their eyes slid simultaneously to Hide's face. They stared, their gazes sharp and fearful.

But Hide didn't notice. He kept on walking.

Kaneki was the first to recover, smiling vacantly. "Where did you hear that?" he asked.

"I read it?" Hide glanced at him. His eyes flashed to Mutsuki. "Hey, Kaneki's part of the CCG, so no worries."

"R-right…" Mutsuki had been quiet lately. Kaneki wondered if it was because of the nightmare he'd had earlier in the week. He'd wet the bed.

Well, Kaneki was jumping to conclusions, but he couldn't think of any other reason why Mutsuki would abruptly wash the sheets in the middle of the night.

"That's so excessive," Kaneki murmured.

"The CCG is so extra," Hide said with an energetic shrug. "If you hadn't actually gone to them, I wonder what would've happened. Do you think I would've been caught? Thrown in jail for helping you?" Hide clapped his hands together excitedly. "It'd be like a daytime drama!"

"I don't think you would've been put in jail," Mutsuki piped up. Hide glanced at him curiously, and he shrugged. "You're too smart, Hide."

Hide's hand clapped over his heart. "You," he gasped, his eyes glistening with unshed tears, "are the kindest little child. My sweet son."

"Hide, stop," Kaneki groaned. Mutsuki was getting uncomfortable again. Fidgeting with his coat hem, shrinking back, glancing around wildly in order to avoid looking at Hide.

"Ah, sorry, was that too much?"

"A little."

"You know I'm just joking, right, Mutsuki?"

"Aha… yeah." Mutsuki smiled at Hide gently. "It's okay. I just get really surprised whenever you say stuff like that."

"What, that you're sweet?" Hide's brow rose to an inexplicable height. "Don't make me cry."

"Ah, no, I mean… you keep calling me your son, which is…" Mutsuki scratched his head pensively.

"Noo, now I'm definitely gonna cry!" Hide's hands clasped over his mouth, folded as if in prayer. "Do you not want me to dad you?"

"You're… only a few years older than me…"

"Mutsuki…" Hide whined. "Why are you robbing me of my dream to become a jolly middle aged man?"

"Hide, what the fuck?" Kaneki was smiling, but honestly, he could not dream up some of the shit Hide said sometimes.

"You're eighteen," Mutsuki gasped. "Shouldn't you be more concerned with like, college kid stuff?"

"Parties are boring," Hide said firmly. "Parenting is so much more fulfilling. Mutsuki!" Hide swept himself down into a deep bow. "Please let me adopt you!"

"Hide!"

Mutsuki didn't really say anything in response. He merely stood, startled and confused, his mouth pressed into a thin line. Kaneki took him gently by the arm and pulled him away. When Hide realized he'd been left behind, he shouted after them.

"This family doesn't appreciate me!"

"How is he always like this?" Mutsuki exhaled. "Does he… ever just run out of energy?"

"Never." Kaneki smiled fondly. "I think he has like, rechargeable batteries or something?"

"That makes sense."

As they continued walking, they noticed Hide hadn't followed them. Kaneki stopped, and he turned around.

Behind them, Hide was chatting with a young woman with neatly cropped hair. Kaneki realized he recognized her.

Nishino Kimi bowed her head at Hide in gratitude, clutched her bookbag tightly, and swiftly walked away.

"Who's that?" Mutsuki asked.

"Uh…" Truthfully, he'd forgotten all about Kimi. That was probably really rude of him, but he had a lot on his plate since Nishiki had gone underground. Of course it'd be difficult to explain the whole thing to Mutsuki. "She's the… ex-girlfriend of someone we know."

"Oh."

Hide wandered back over to them, his hands stuffed in his pockets. Kaneki studied him curiously. "What was that about?"

"Isn't Kimi so cute?" Hide winked. His voice was doing that little lilt it did when he talked to Touka. Kimi-san. "She just gave me her number."

"Does that mean you and Kaneki are getting a divorce?" Mutsuki asked.

Kaneki and Hide stared at him.

"Finally," Hide whispered, his eyes lighting up. "Finally you have succumbed to the inevitability that is my banter. Give me a hug, son." Hide opened his arms, and Mutsuki took an uneasy step back.

"Ah… no thank you…"

"Well, fine then," Hide scoffed. "I see how it is."

"So why did Kimi give you her number?" Kaneki asked curiously. "I sincerely doubt it's because of your good looks. Or charm."

"Why must you vex me so?" Hide whispered, staring sadly at Kaneki's face.

"It's like, my unofficial job to trim your ego monthly."

"My ego is vibrant and bold and does not need your oppressive "trimming" to be beautiful."

"I'll be right back," Mutsuki blurted, making a beeline for the nearby bathroom. Kaneki and Hide stopped.

"So…" Kaneki turned his back to the bathroom. They'd been on their way off campus, since it was their lunch break, and Hide had insisted on taking Mutsuki to Big Girl. "What was that thing with Kimi really?"

"Ah…" Hide scratched his cheek. He pulled a neatly folded piece of paper out of his jacket, and he twirled it between his two index fingers. "She gave me this to give to Nishiki."

"What?" Kaneki was taken aback. He didn't know why, but Kimi's devotion to Nishiki always shocked him. "How'd she know to give it to you?"

"Uh, she said Nishiki told her to use me as a messenger?" Hide shrugged, slipping the note back into his pocket. "Man, I am the best delivery boy. Oh my god! Kaneki!" Hide snatched Kaneki by the shoulders and beamed at him.

"Hide, please give yourself more credit than having your life goal be a delivery boy," he said weakly.

"No, Kaneki, you don't get it, I wanna be the best delivery boy!"

"I think there's a pizza place near my apartment that's hiring," Kaneki said, brushing Hide's hands off his shoulders.

"Oh my god." Hide grinned. "I'm applying."

"Okay."

"I'm going to take pizza to your apartment."

"I can't eat it."

"Sorry, buddy, but that's your problem. Me and Mutsuki can finish a whole tray, I think."

"Probably not," Kaneki admitted. "Mutsuki's appetite is strange. He doesn't eat that much."

Hide stared at him blankly. He smiled. This was the most forceful smile Kaneki had ever seen Hide wear.

"Kaneki," he said calmly. "Please pay more attention to Mutsuki."

"What?"

"He's a fifteen year old boy who doesn't eat like a garbage disposal," Hide explained. He was speaking in an even tone, like the man on nature documentaries who commented on the terrain. "I don't want to psychoanalyze the kid, okay? Just talk to him, please, and make sure he's not depressed."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Kaneki couldn't even figure out when he was depressed. If he was ever not depressed. How was he supposed to milk that information out of Mutsuki?

"Um, sit him down," Hide said, "and ask him what's wrong."

"Well I've tried that!" Kaneki huffed. "He just denies that there's anything wrong. And I don't want to make him nervous, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get that." Hide ruffled his hair. "He's like, the most nervous. Please take care of him, he's got more nerves than even you."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Bro, I'm always here to throw down the truth," Hide said. "You were the most anxious person I knew until I met Mutsuki."

"Okay." Kaneki nodded. He couldn't deny it, or anything. "Should we go check on him?"

"Would you want someone to go check on you while you're shitting?" Hide rolled his eyes. "You're supposed to be the smart one. This is appalling."

"Stop, Hide, I'm serious." Kaneki turned around. He felt like something was wrong. He needed to get attuned to his senses. He definitely smelled something off.

In a violently familiar way.

"Wait," he murmured. He started forward. As he neared the bathroom, the scent grew stronger. He didn't want to wind back the clock, but this was all so nostalgic. In the worst way. Really. Fucking terrible. This smell was just the most clingy, senselessly thick cologne burning the inside of his nose, and he'd really appreciate it if the smell would stop.

Kaneki all but kicked the bathroom door open.

"Mutsuki," he said, his eyes meeting Tsukiyama's. He didn't even have to look around to see what was going on. He'd already known. "Leave with Hide."

"Y-yes…"

Mutsuki moved overwhelmingly fast, brushing past Tsukiyama and toward the door. Tsukiyama caught him by the wrist.

"Have I done something to offend you?" His eyes were large and beseeching. Pathetic. "Ah, you must be more modern than I initially thought. I've done some reading on—"

Tsukiyama was knocked back by a surprising amount of force as Mutsuki elbowed him in the gut, using the hand that was immediately freed to smash his briefcase across Tsukiyama's face.

Mutsuki then promptly ran like hell.

"Please follow him," Kaneki told Hide. Hide did a mock salute, whistling low under his breath as he wheeled around and jogged after Mutsuki.

Kaneki stepped forward, his shoes clapping against the grimy tile. His fingers tightened around his briefcase as he watched Tsukiyama flex his jaw, gingerly patting his cheek.

"You know," he huffed, "that almost actually hurt?"

"I told you to leave him alone," Kaneki hissed.

Tsukiyama glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes. He raised his chin, and he offered up a shrug. "Mea culpa," he chuckled, covering his eyes daintily with his hand. "I just couldn't stay away."

"You are literally going to get yourself killed," Kaneki snapped. "Like, do you not grasp the whole investigator thing?" He held up his own briefcase, which was heavy and bulky and honestly annoying to carry around. But he was getting used to the weight of it. "I could kill you right now."

"You let me go the first time." Tsukiyama smirked. "I wanted to test my luck. You two, you are not like those other doves. I just have to know, how did two ghouls end up in the CCG?"

"Do you really think I'm in the mood for a friendly chat?" Kaneki's eyes flashed, and he felt his kakugan beginning to form, the skin beneath his eye twitching. "Do not terrorize that boy. Do not talk to him, do not stalk him, do not try to flatter him, because that won't work on him."

"You're being so dramatic." Tsukiyama folded his arms across his chest. "Can't we just have a nice conversation? Let me start. Hello, my name is Tsukiyama Shuu. And you are…?"

"Not stupid." Kaneki glowered at him. "How many times do I have to say this before it is drilled into your goddamn head? I am a ghoul investigator, and you are going to die if you don't back off."

"What I find really hilarious is that you think that's a threat to me." Tsukiyama's smile was thin and bright. "Clearly you don't know who I am. You also neglected to turn me in to your superiors last time, which got me thinking. You don't want to hurt me at all."

"Oh my god…" Kaneki dragged his hand down his face. I forgot how fucking ridiculous he was, he thought furiously. "Stop stalking Mutsuki. If you're so keen on harassing someone, then fight me."

"That sounds like a lovely invitation." Tsukiyama tilted his head. "Where and when?"

Kaneki wanted to scream. In his head, he was. He was screaming. His thoughts were all just in uppercase, pounding at the walls of his skull. I! WASN'T! SERIOUS!

"Meet me in hell," Kaneki said coldly, whirling around. "Whenever the fuck I decide to tell the entire First Branch that the Gourmet is Tsukiyama Shuu."

Kaneki marched out. He knew even before he opened the door that he'd fucked up.

Tsukiyama was going to take this as a challenge.

"Hide," he called as he stepped out onto the campus. His white coat was beating against his thighs from the abrupt chill of wind. He felt sick knowing that he'd just done something that could potentially make his life a lot harder.

He spotted Hide and Mutsuki sitting on the ledge of a fountain nearby. He quickly moved toward them, noting Mutsuki's posture, his hands wrung between his knees, his head bowed. Hide's hand was on his back.

"Mutsuki," Kaneki gasped, kneeling down in front of the boy. "Hey, did he do anything to you?"

Mutsuki shook his head mutely.

Hide glanced at Kaneki. It was a meaningful glance, but Kaneki couldn't quite read it.

"I'm sorry," Kaneki sighed, closing his eyes. "This is my fault for not reporting him."

"Do you know him too?" Mutsuki's voice was hard. Bitter. "Is that why?"

"What?" Kaneki's eyes snapped open. He stared at Mutsuki, who was glowering at the ground somewhere far away from Kaneki's face. "No, Tsukiyama is… different. He's not nice like Touka is. Please try to stay far away from him."

Mutsuki glanced at him. His visible eye looked dead and tired.

"You're so strong," he said softly, "but you didn't even try to fight him just now. Why is that?"

Kaneki inhaled sharply.

Tsukiyama was a problem. He didn't have a good reason to protect him. Hell, he shouldn't be. He should just let Tsukiyama deal with the consequences of being such a shitty person. He hadn't even considered heeding Kaneki's warning, and blatantly ignored it in favor of treading on thin ice. He would die if he continued on like this.

"I give people the benefit of the doubt, I guess," he said dully. "Plus, Tsukiyama won't yield. I'd have to kill him if we fought. I don't want to kill anyone."

"You're in the wrong profession for that mentality, Kaneki," Mutsuki whispered.

He smiled. "I know," he said.

Running away felt the way remembering you forgot a pencil before a math exam felt. It was icy, dull, and panic inducing. You put a few things in a bag. You revel at it.

There is something truly humbling about realizing your entire life can be condensed into the contents of a single backpack.

Hinami didn't even have a backpack. She had a medium sized purse packed about halfway full. There were two dresses, a spare pair of shoes, a toothbrush, and a Takatsuki Sen novel inside it.

She didn't say goodbye. Yoshimura had asked her to let him know when she would be leaving, but she thought that if she went to him one last time, hugged him and thanked him, it would be too much. Even her resolve could falter when her emotions ran high.

Hinami was clearly confused, but she'd asked no questions while Touka had packed two bags. One for Hinami and one for herself.

Perhaps she was used to this. Being uprooted was likely a familiar, stinging sensation to a girl who'd been urgently bounced from home to home to home, shedding pieces of herself with every tragedy that erupted every step of the way. Her black hair fell straight, smooth, and a little uneven. Touka hid her ugly bangs with some pins and a backwards cap. Touka let her wear her clothes. A cute letterman style jacket that swam on Hinami's frame, a pair of overalls that she'd cut to about half way up her thigh. On Hinami, the overalls reached her knees, and generally the outfit was cute, and befitting a child. Touka also thought Hinami looked slightly androgynous, which, from experience, was a good thing when trying to lay low.

Hinami held her hand as they walked through the city. Touka was wearing her sparring joggers, her worn, sturdy brown combat boots, and a faux fur-lined leather jacket, the warmest jacket that she owned. Inside her bag were similar items. Changes of shirts and underwear. The patterns of her shirts were mostly gray, white, and black. Striped sometimes. She had one with black and white roses blooming across the length of the blouse. It was the prettiest thing she owned right now. She hoped she wouldn't get blood on it.

She led Hinami up the stairs of a surprisingly nice apartment building. She didn't know what she'd been expecting, but everything was bright and clean, and the people who walked past smiled politely. That was more than she could say for Yomo's building, or even Kaneki's.

When she knocked on the door, Hinami finally broke.

"What are we doing, Touka?" Her hand was clenching Touka's so hard that the bones in her fist felt close to snapping in half. She had left out her usual sing-song "onee-chan." Perhaps that had been intentional.

"It's a long story," Touka told Hinami softly, pressing her hand to the top of her head. She would have mussed her hair if the hat hadn't been in the way.

Hinami looked pensive. She watched Touka's face, her warm eyes dulling with every passing second. She turned her attention toward the door before them.

"I don't mind," she said softly. "If I'm with you, I don't think I'd mind leaving this ward, or Tokyo, or Japan, even."

Touka felt a pang of regret slicing through her heart.

She squeezed Hinami's hand, a desperate reflex to save her desperate thoughts. She couldn't waver now.

She couldn't.

"You don't mean that," Touka said quietly.

Hinami smiled without looking at her.

"I got you into trouble," she said sadly. "I wish I could be strong like you, Touka. I wish I was strong enough to protect people like you do."

"Hinami…"

The door swung open.

Hide's face did not betray his initial shock for even a fraction of a second. But Touka knew he was shocked. She could tell by the way his shoulders tensed, by the way the door had stopped halfway open.

"Oh, wow," he gasped, pushing the door open further. "I feel like the world's luckiest man, when the world's two most beautiful women show up on my doorstep!"

"Hide!" Hinami cried excitedly, bolting forward and throwing her arms around him. He caught her and swung her around, her feet lifting off the ground for a few seconds. Her giggles ricocheted off the floor. Touka stood, gripping the strap of her backpack, and she already found that she felt out of place.

"Look at that hat!" Hide snatched it from Hinami's head and put it on. Hinami's uneven bangs fell into her face as Hide plopped the hat on his head, and he blinked wildly. "Hina, did you cut your hair by yourself?"

"No," Hinami gasped, flushing in contentment. "Big sis did it for me."

"Side bangs suit you," Hide said, brushing the uneven strands aside gently. "That was a good call, Touka."

Touka scowled. She knew how bad it looked.

"Come in, you guys." Hide stepped aside, half-dragging Hinami with him, to allow Touka to step inside his apartment. Like Kaneki's, there was a kitchenette immediately upon entering the living room. The difference being that Hide's apartment was far more spacious and open, albeit more cluttered and disorganized. Hinami was bouncing on the balls of her feet as Hide shut the door behind them.

"You didn't say we were coming to Big Brother Hide's house," Hinami gasped, looking around excitedly.

"She didn't tell me you guys were coming either," Hide laughed, stuffing his hands into his pockets. "I actually just got back from class, so you made good timing. Actually, Touka, shouldn't you be in school?"

Touka's jaw set. She shrugged, thumbing her backpack straps and staring at a wall.

"Have you talked to Kaneki?" Hinami asked Hide eagerly. "He came to visit a little while ago, but he was kinda in a hurry. He brought another boy with him, and they smelled the same. Is that boy like Kaneki?"

"Mutsuki?" Hide scratched the back of his head, smiling slightly. "Yeah, kinda. They act a lot alike, don't they?"

"She's asking if Mutsuki is a half ghoul like Kaneki," Touka sighed, not tearing her eyes from the egg-shell texture of the white walls. "Which he is."

"Actually," Hide said weakly, holding Hinami's hands as she rocked back on her heels, leaning away from him, "technically Mutsuki isn't a ghoul."

"Look, I don't give a fuck about technicalities," Touka sighed. "That kid has a kakugan, right?"

"He can eat normal food," Hide said, pulling Hinami over to his couch and plopping down. She burst into a fit of giggles as she fell back, kicking her feet up into the air. "I have no idea how they managed it, but Mutsuki is like the best possible combination of ghoul and human qualities. He doesn't need to eat humans to live, but technically he has the capability to use the kagune. He's like a glimpse into a really nice future."

"What kind of future is that?" Touka shot him a cool glance. He watched her, his brow furrowing bemusedly. Hinami settled down, her eyes flickering between them rapidly.

"A future where ghouls and humans can coexist peacefully," Hide said calmly.

"That sounds like a delusion," she told him curtly, folding her arms across her chest. "You… you guys are all so delusional."

He managed to smile, though it looked a little strange. "You've talked to Kaneki, huh?" Beside him, Hinami perked up, looking sharply at Touka. Her eyes were wide and gleaming, as though reflecting some terrible betrayal. Touka swallowed hard.

"You're all crazy," she said quietly. "There will never be peace between ghouls and the CCG."

Hide simply sat and stared at her, a knowing smile bright on his lips. She wanted to smack it right off. She imagined what it would be like to break this boy, to hear his nose crunch beneath his fist, to feel his blood seep into the lines of her knuckles. He didn't deserve it, but she wanted it to happen anyway.

"You're right," Hide said, his smile wide and his eyes closing contentedly.

"Excuse me?"

"I said you're right," he said, leaning back against the couch, stretching his arms above his head. "Kaneki's running a fool's errand. Nobody wants to hear the bullshit he spouts about ghouls, especially in the CCG. He'll probably just end up getting hurt in the end."

"Then why are you letting him go so fucking far?" Touka snapped, striding forward toward him. "You're his friend, aren't you? You arrogant asshole! Do you want to see him get hurt?"

"Of course not," Hide said quietly. He dropped his arms into his lap, folding his legs and hunching forward. He was smiling fondly. "I just don't want him to hate me for disagreeing with him." He scratched his cheek, looking sheepish. "I'm a pretty shitty friend, huh? I can't even protect him from himself because I'm so selfish."

"Hide…" Hinami sat beside him, her eyes heavily lidded and her head bowed. "Kaneki is a good person… he wouldn't hate you for helping him."

"Kaneki is a good person," Hide said. He shrugged. "I don't really want that to change. I only interfere in his life when I have to."

Does he not know about Kaneki's plan? Touka had to wonder what was going on in Kaneki's head half the time. This made no sense. What could Kaneki gain by all of this? Why was it so secretive?

"Do you think Kaneki's wrong?" Touka asked softly.

Hide smiled at her warmly. "There's nothing wrong with fighting for what you believe in," he said.

"You're avoiding the question." Touka glowered at him. "Do you think ghouls and humans can reach a compromise? Live together in a world where hunting one another is an archaic practice?"

"It's nice to imagine that," Hide said brightly. "Can you imagine the history books? They'll call our generation violent and bigoted, and ghouls will either be victimized or demonized. Who will be the villain, I wonder?" Hide laughed. Touka was undeniably uneasy, feeling that Hide was talking out loud without realizing what he was saying.

"The villain will be whoever loses," Touka told him flatly.

He looked at him. His eyes had lit up, as though she'd recited a thread of poetry to him.

"That's right," Hide said with soft, yet vibrant little chuckle. "History is written by the winners."

"Ah…" Hinami shifted uncomfortably on the couch. "That sounds scary. How can there be winners or losers between so many people?"

"That's just the way war is, Hinami."

War, Touka thought numbly, a chill shooting down her spine. Is that really what this is?

If this was a war, than she'd been a refugee for so long that she could not possibly remember the feeling of liberty.

And now she was going off to fight. For what?

There was no honor in being a spy. She was throwing herself into a thankless position where she would be hated by everything and everyone around her. She was discarding her home. Selling out her own people. Working for the very organization she vehemently despised.

"Hey, Hina," Hide said brightly, lifting the cap from his head and dropping it onto Hinami's. "There're some books in my room that Kaneki gave me forever ago. Do you wanna look through them? You can keep any one you like."

"Really?" Hinami gasped, jumping to her feet. "I can keep them?"

"Yep!" Hide beamed up at her. He pointed to a door off to the right of the kitchenette. "Right through there."

"Are you sure?"

"Of course?" Hide snorted, rolling his eyes back into his skull. "Kaneki gives me way too many books. Like, I love the guy, but I'm more of a visual learner. I have trouble paying attention to blocks of text like that."

"Thank you, Hide!" Hinami gasped, throwing her arms around him and squeezing him tight. He merely laughed as she hurried away, leaving the room so fast that Touka had to blink. Now she was all alone with a boy she couldn't quite wrap her head around, her words dying in her throat, and a heavy silence coiling around her chest.

Hide tilted his head.

"Sit down, Touka," he said, his usual Touka-chan dull and distant. "I know you want to say something important. Please don't make this hard."

She swallowed thickly, her eyes flitting rapidly towards the door. She cautiously moved toward the couch, sitting down awkwardly on the edge. Hide stared at her, a stupid little smile glued on his face.

"You'd think I was the ghoul, the way you're acting," he joked, flopping onto his side and tossing a pillow at her. "Loosen up, Touka."

She grabbed the pillow and whipped it back at his face.

Hide's laughter echoed against the walls, and rung inside her head, and she glared at her hands in her lap.

"You came here for a reason," Hide said, hugging the pillow and resting his chin upon it. "Come on. Tell me what's up."

She could hear his laughter in her head even after it died, like a brass instrument serenading her thoughts.

"I have to leave," she said quietly.

"You just got here, Touka…"

"No." She looked at him sharply, her eyes narrowing. "Hide, I'm leaving. I'm leaving Anteiku, I'm leaving school, I'm leaving my life."

He stared at her vacantly. His smile was still there, irrationally, stretching on his thin lips and making him look so fucking composed. How did he do that?

"I want to ask why," he admitted, "but I don't think that's something you want to tell me."

"You'd be correct."

"Okay." Hide studied her, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he squinted at her. "I'm not really following though. Why did you come here? To me?" He laughed easily. "Has my restless flirting finally paid off?"

Her jaw clenched. She rolled her eyes.

"No," she said flatly.

"Damn."

"Ugh," she grumbled, leaning back against the couch. "God. I wanted to ask if you could take Hinami."

Hide was silent.

"For… a walk?" Hide asked weakly.

"You know exactly what I mean, Hide."

"Well, shit." Hide's eyes were wide. He ruffled his hair, chuckling nervously to himself. "For real?"

"Hide, I have to go. She can't come with me."

"Right, right… but like…" Hide's eyes whisked around the room. He stood up, looking for the first time like he was really anxious. Touka couldn't help but stare. She'd never seen this before. "Here?"

"No, on the fucking moon." Touka watched him warily. "What? What's wrong? Did I jump it on you too fast? I didn't have much time to prepare, okay."

"No, I can…" Hide exhaled. He laughed. He scratched his cheek and then dragged his fingers through his unruly blonde hair. "Oh. Shit."

"Can you do it or not?" she snapped.

Hide was staring at a wall vacantly, his smile wide and empty, reminiscent of a bottle of bubbles that had been poured down the drain.

"She can't stay here," he said quietly.

Touka exhaled. Her hands tightened into fists in her lap. She stood up.

"Fine," she said. "Thanks, or whatever. I'll see you again, maybe. Maybe not."

As she strode up to Hide's door, he snatched her by the arm and whirled her around.

"How much trouble are you in?" he asked her urgently.

"Let go of me!" She bared her teeth, her boots skidding back on his hard wood floor. She hadn't even taken them off upon entering. That had probably said a lot.

"You guys can't stay here," he said, his grip tightening on her bicep, "but I might be able to find a place for you to stay. How bad is it? Hinami's hair is dyed— I can help you with yours, if you want. Bleaching is easy if you've done it enough—"

Touka's eyes widened. She stared at him, listening to his words, finding that they fell through her ears and poured out around her.

What was he doing?

What was he saying?

She felt like she was drowning in words.

"—you'll have to stay in Tokyo for a little while, but I can get you a fake ID. Maybe even a passport if you give me a few weeks. Do you need a fake name? You can use my last name if you need to. Does Kaneki know about this? I won't tell him, but maybe you should let him know you're leaving—"

"Hide." Touka shoved him away from her, a wave of dizziness coming over her as she realized how truly strange this all was. This boy was completely human. Why was he offering to help? In such intense length? She couldn't wrap her head around it. "I don't need any of that. Hinami can't come where I'm going anyway. I just… I need to make sure she's not alone. If you can't do it, then whatever. I'll… I'll figure something out."

She whirled around, gripping the straps of her bag tightly as she marched to Hinami's room.

"I can take care of her," Hide blurted.

Touka turned to glance at him incredulously.

He laughed, holding up his hands in surrender. "Ah, please here me out!" He looked around the living room, and he shrugged. "I have to stand by what I said before. She definitely cannot stay here."

Touka exhaled shakily. "What the hell are you saying?" she asked sharply.

"Well, you're scared about her being alone, right? Why can't she just stay at Anteiku?" Hide smiled. "If that's possible, I think that's the best option for her."

"She'd still be living in an apartment alone," Touka said flatly. "And Yoshimura can't take care of her. You were there when that was brought up, right? Anteiku can't be responsible for her, even though she lives there."

"I'll come there," Hide said brightly. "I can take care of her without actually living there!"

"That's stupid."

"No, it'll work." Hide was beaming. "I can do it. Touka, please trust me."

"You can't just run in and out of Anteiku like that," Touka gasped, her face scrunching up as she tried to imagine it. "The customers will think you're a fucking weirdo!"

"I am a weirdo, though!" Hide was grinning. "Who cares? Touka, I can do this!"

"Ugh…" She wrinkled her nose. "That's still my apartment, you know…"

"I won't sleep there," Hide promised. "I'll just stop by regularly for Hinami. She can stay here sometimes, but like… not… that often…" Hide laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's complicated, but this way is better. Trust me."

Her eyes narrowed. Trust him?

Did she have any other choice?

"Okay… fine." She dug into her pocket, pulling out her lanyard. Hide watched in awe as she fiddled with her key ring. "You can have the key to my apartment. I technically don't need it anymore." She tore the key off the ring violently. She held it up. "You can have this."

Hide reached for it. Touka yanked it back.

"I have two conditions," she declared. Very loudly. Very boldly.

"Of course," Hide laughed.

"One," she said, pointing at him with her key, "you will not mess up anything. I want the apartment to be the same way it is now when I get back. And you're definitely giving me my key back when I get back, asshole."

"Of course," Hide repeated, snickering into his hand. He looked highly amused. "What's the second condition, your highness?"

She wanted to kick him. She growled, and she turned away, biting her cuticles nervously. Hide seemed to grasp how serious this was, and he leaned forward.

"What is it?" he asked far more gently. "What do you need me to do?"

She glanced up at him, and she smiled sheepishly.

"I need you to do a little job for me while I'm gone," she said.

Chapter Text

Dealing with the misfortune of being a personal pet project of Koutarou Amon was difficult. The man had gotten it into his head that Kaneki was uneducated in the matters of ghoul affairs, and that he should see first-hand what the learning environment for future investigators truly is.

Kaneki Ken was being schooled.

Literally.

He didn't know what it was about the Junior Academy that was so reminiscent of a prison. The corridors were spacious, and the classrooms were meant to be filled up, a lecture style architecture in mind. The children were not overtly unhappy, and they made their way about, bumping into one another and laughing in the halls. But still. There was something distinctly confining about these walls.

The sensation that no one here had a choice. Like no one here could actually leave.

"Why am I here, again?" Kaneki asked weakly as Amon led him from classroom to classroom. All Kaneki had really done was hang out on the sidelines and listen to the man lecture about ghouls. It was all stuff Kaneki already knew. Like, he had experience fighting ghouls. Hell, he probably could give these kids a lesson or two about how to deal with the nastier ghouls that hung around Tokyo.

Of course Kaneki knew why he was here.

Amon thought that if he heard the usual bullshit the CCG brainwashed their young with, Kaneki would have a change of heart.

Seriously? Did he think it would be that fucking simple?

"I thought getting away from the office would do you some good," Amon said offhandedly, smiling at an acquaintance who had walked past and waved. "Becoming a good investigator depends on how dedicated you are to your cause. And we all have very different causes."

"What's yours?" Kaneki asked curiously.

Amon glanced at him. They entered an empty classroom, and he reclined against the air thoughtfully.

"I want to correct the wrongs of the world," he said slowly. "Ghouls are wrong."

"So are humans," Kaneki offered without missing a beat.

"I'm not going to entertain you this time, Kaneki."

Kaneki smirked. There was some satisfaction in knowing Amon was sick of fighting this fight.

"And these kids," Kaneki said, "what are their reasons? Like, beyond hating ghouls?"

"Ah." Amon sighed, setting his briefcase and messenger bag on the table beside the podium he was set to speak at. "That's difficult. Like I said, everyone has different reasons. For this Academy, however, I think it's safe to assume most of them are after revenge."

Kaneki sat down cautiously on the corner of the table, squinting at Amon's face. "Revenge," he repeated. He'd known that this would be a thing, and he understood it, but it was still jarring. These kids seemed pretty normal. It was odd to think that they might be harboring murderous tendencies due to a troubling past. Though Kaneki couldn't really judge. "Are you after revenge, Amon?"

The man had settled at the podium, shifting notes from his bag to his rostra. He didn't look particularly fazed, which was telling, because Amon often wore his emotions as some people might wear glasses. He sighed quietly, a quick exhale that drifted off as he rolled his shoulders.

"We lose people we love in this line of work, Kaneki," he said calmly. He did not look Kaneki in the eye, perhaps because he knew Kaneki's viewpoint, and could not bear to let him see the ugliness inside of him. "I… am definitely angry. I don't think I'm the kind of person who can forgive easily. And yes, I have known many people… many close friends who have died at the hands of ghouls. They are rotten. All of them."

"All of them."

"If you want me to say "except you," well, you won't be hearing it." Amon sighed, closing his eyes. "I don't consider you to be a ghoul."

"You're deluded and sentimental," Kaneki told him sharply. "You can't keep pretending like the thing you hate isn't right beside you. What are you really thinking, Amon? If you want to hate all ghouls, you know you have to hate me too."

"I'm sick of this conversation," Amon said curtly, his eyes squeezing shut. "Enough of this, Kaneki."

"There will never be enough, because I will always be this thing that you are so disgusted with." Kaneki scraped the toe of his shoe against the dull green carpet. "Why do you keep fighting me on this? I know what I am."

"And I know that you are a completely different entity than any other ghoul." Amon glanced at him coolly. "Frankly, you don't count."

Kaneki hung his head back and groaned. Would this debate ever end?

The kids began filing in one by one. Some looked excited. Others glanced at Kaneki bemusedly. Some looked simply disinterested. Kaneki continued to sit on the table, though he repositioned himself so he looked slightly more professional than he'd initially seemed.

"Good morning," Amon began in a level, open voice that spread quickly across the room. It didn't quite boom, but he certainly provided a looming presence when he spoke. "As you all may know, I'm Rank 1 Investigator, Koutarou Amon. Accompanying me today is Rank 3 Investigator, Kaneki Ken."

Kaneki stood up for a moment when his name was said, leaning forward slightly in a semi-bow. The students looked at him strangely. This hadn't been the first class they'd gone to. Thus far there had been no issues, but anything could happen. Anything could set off a chain reaction that would cause Kaneki and Amon to argue.

"We're here to inform you of what field work actually entails, and what it's like to fight ghouls."

Immediately someone rose their hand. It was a boy near the back of the lecture hall, tall and lanky. Amon nodded curtly at him. "Yes?"

The boy stood up. His eyes slid to Kaneki.

"Mr. Koutarou," he said, his distinctly forced and cold Koutarou-san ringing throughout the hall. "I understand that you've come to lecture us, but what can a Rank 3 Investigator teach us about field work?"

Kaneki felt personally attacked. Like, he knew more about ghouls than any kid here! And why were they judging him based on his rank, anyway?

Luckily for him, Amon had his back.

"Kaneki is exclusively a field operative," he stated. His voice was clipped and firm. "He is here because he is an invaluable resource, and his rank only tells you his experience, not his skill. Count yourself lucky to be sitting in that seat, because not all investigators have the privilege of being educated before going out into the field and risking their lives."

The boy looked slightly stunned. Some of the other kids around him chuckled a little, and one actually tugged on his sleeve to make him sit back down. He gave a jerky nod, and sat.

"You are all here specifically because your lives have been uprooted by ghouls," Amon began steadily. "You are not alone. Ghouls are pests in our world, gluttonous beasts that take and take without caring how they affect anyone else. They are a destructive force, and it is our job to stop them."

Kaneki had heard this several times today. But this time was different. This time, Amon had stopped, taken a look down at his notes, and then turned to look at Kaneki.

"My colleague will share with you an anecdote about some of his encounters with ghouls," Amon said, gesturing to Kaneki broadly.

All eyes landed on him.

He froze up.

An anecdote?

A thousand things went through his brain at once.

Let me show you a special skill. I can count backwards from a thousand.

Do you want to know what a centipede funneling through your ear canal sounds like?

Choose. Mother or child?

Who do you save?

Ghouls taste like raw bear meat. Grisly and chewy and too thick to really swallow properly. The blood runs down your chin, and you think it's different, that this is something different, like you're a better person because you're tearing off a chunk of a ghoul's thigh instead of a humans, but it's all the same going down, and you're no better for being a cannibal.

Would you like to meet a ghoul?

Let me show you.

"Kaneki?"

He was snapped out of his reverie, finding himself being stared at intently, so many eyes boring into his that he wanted to shield his face and cry to the heavens that he was so fucking sorry.

He smiled.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" he laughed weakly, leaning back against the table. "I don't want to scare them."

The kids erupted in quick objections. Give them some credit, they said. They knew what ghouls were like, they said.

Kaneki sat down on the desk.

What story should he tell?

He stared at his hands.

And then he looked up.

"I once knew a very nice woman," he began, feeling Amon's eyes on him. They were the most heated. Out of all the gazes that seared into his skin, Amon seemed to summon the pits of hell with his stare. Inferno at its finest, coming to gobble Kaneki up. "She was quiet, kind of subdued. She'd recently lost her husband— he'd been attacked by ghouls. So she was left to raise their daughter on their own, but she didn't really know how to support them. She was getting desperate, bouncing from place to place, barely providing anything more than shelter for them both. This woman was losing a lot of hope, convincing herself that she couldn't live much longer without her husband there. And her daughter was helpless. You guys get to go to school— the CCG provides you that generosity, at least. This girl moved around too much. She was so intelligent, but she never got a proper education, so she struggled with reading and writing. She never really understood that there was a threat out there, because her mother shielded the truth from her. But inevitably, the ghouls came back for her mother."

It was strange how every person in the room seemed to hang on his every word. He heard his own voice, like a soft-spoken narrator of a period piece. Like he was reading lines from The Iliad, gilding his voice to keep the flow, weaving his words delicately so they all could feel the tragedy within them.

"I was there when they came," he said. "I tried to stop them. I couldn't. The woman died trying to save her daughter, who managed to get away. I can't tell you what happened to her."

He really couldn't. Amon was standing right here.

The room was very quiet. Kaneki raised his eyes, noting the discomfort in some of the kids' expressions. Others looked awed.

"That's… so sad," a girl in the front row said softly. There were murmurs of agreement.

Amon watched Kaneki dully. When Kaneki met his eye, he turned away.

Later, when all the kids had dispersed, Kaneki helped Amon gather his things.

"Why did you lie?" he asked.

Kaneki shuffled the papers quietly, lining them up against the table and tapping them twice. He looked Amon in the eye as he offered them.

"Because we are the monsters in someone else's story," he said coldly, leaving the papers to wilt in Amon's fist, "and you don't get to feel guiltless."

"You knew them." The papers crinkled as Amon clenched his fingers. "You knew Fueguchi personally, and you never said anything?"

"Are you going to throw me in Cochlea for that?" Kaneki asked dully.

Amon's eyes flashed in fury. "This is serious!" he snapped, grabbing Kaneki by the lapels of his white coat, and jerking him forward. "Was that why? Was that why you defended her?"

Kaneki couldn't even find it in himself to feign shock. He let himself be throttled, his eyes dull as he watched Amon's face. He glanced away.

"Oh my god…" Amon's knuckles bit into Kaneki's collarbone. "God, tell me you didn't know they were ghouls the whole time."

"I don't have to tell you anything," Kaneki snapped. "I'm not defending myself. I'm just stating the facts. They were both innocent, and you made a point of executing a helpless mother in the street."

"She fought back!"

"She was saving her daughter!" Kaneki shoved Amon, which forced him to release his grip on Kaneki's lapels. "Why do you insist on belittling the feelings of ghouls? They love and hate and cry and die just like us!"

"They are not like us!" Amon's brow was furrowed to the point where there seemed to be mountains creasing his forehead. "They mercilessly kill and eat people!"

"There are bad ghouls who do that, but like I've said time and time again, not all ghouls are bad." Kaneki exhaled sharply, gathering his bearings and feeling his shoulders shake in his cold rage. He needed to go sit down.

"Kaneki…" Amon was pinching the bridge of his nose, looking tired and spent. Kaneki didn't want to know what he looked like. Probably similar. "This fight is exhausting."

"You think?" Kaneki spat, folding his arms across his chest and shrinking back defensively. "I don't know why you're so closed minded. I know exactly what kind of evil ghouls can do, but I still don't hate them as vehemently as you."

Amon sighed deeply, as though he were releasing all his emotional baggage, and he shook his head.

"I don't know what you want me to say, Kaneki," he said. "I don't think I can change for you. You make no sense."

"That's only because you're blinded by prejudice," Kaneki gasped. "If you would just think for a minute, just realize that ghouls are people too—!"

"I'm done with this conversation," Amon cut in sharply.

Kaneki couldn't help but feel angry that Amon had cut off the debate so abruptly. He gritted his teeth and looked down at his shoes. He wondered what Touka would say in his position, if Amon had done this to her. She'd probably get up in his face and start snarling about how spineless he was. Don't start a fight you can't finish, Amon. Or whatever.

As they made their way out of the classroom and down the hall, something seemed to occur to Amon. He paused and looked around, his eyes darting curiously.

"What?" Kaneki prodded him, his arms still folded across his chest impudently.

"Ah…" Amon rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I only just remembered, I've lectured here before. The Second Junior Academy. I think it was two or three years ago now."

"Oh. That's neat." Kaneki glanced around. "Any kids you know here?"

"That's what I just remembered." Amon frowned deeply. "They were two girls. Twins, the Yasuhisa sisters. I wonder if they graduated."

"Yasuhisa…?" That was familiar. Kaneki was struck for a moment by the sensation that there was something here he should know.

"Right. Yasuhisa Kurona and Yasuhisa Nashiro. They should still be here…" Amon looked troubled. "They were really enthusiastic about becoming investigators, and they had so much potential. I wonder why they didn't come."

Kaneki grew wary.

What do I do? he wondered, staring at Amon's face and realizing that his man was far too compassionate for his own good. It was familiar, Kaneki knew. It wasn't like he could deny it. He and Amon circled each other, repeating the same cycles. Caring too much. Too little. All at once or not at all.

"If you want," Kaneki offered, "I can go to the registrar's office and see if they graduated or not."

"Really?" Amon's eyebrows shot up behind his bangs, though he seemed cautious. "That's not really necessary, you know."

"No, it's totally fine!" Kaneki rose his hands and began to back away. "Besides, you have like, what? Two more lectures to do? I can just run over to the office real quick, like you won't even know I'm gone."

Amon frowned at him. He seemed mildly offended, as if Kaneki had made some kind of smart remark against his person.

"You're ditching my lectures?" Amon's shoulders squared, and he actually held his hand over his heart. "I feel like our friendship has been wounded."

"Yeah, like the incessant fighting about ghouls hasn't done that already," Kaneki laughed nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "But… really. I need a break. I've been hearing the same stuff for hours, and to be honest, hearing you demonize ghouls over and over again is really draining."

Amon looked genuinely taken aback. He let his small smile fall away, and he looked remorseful. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "You know nothing I say is directed toward you."

One day you're going to see a bad part of me, Kaneki thought sadly, and you're not gonna like it.

"I know that," Kaneki sighed. "It just bothers me. You know? So I'm going to just go take a break. Sort things out. It'll be fun."

"Okay, Kaneki…" Amon looked mildly concerned until he checked his watch. He seemed to realize he had to go. "I'll meet you at the entrance in an hour."

"Sure."

And then Amon was gone.

Kaneki stood thoughtfully, pushing his hands into the pockets of his long white coat. He began walking, the empty corridor leaving space to crawl and gasp and hiss around him, cool air pouring through his ears and out his mouth. Empty spaces made him feel so strange. Like he should be lonely, but instead he felt wary. Like he was being watched.

Nashiro and Kurona. Twins…

He stopped halfway down a stairwell, his eyes widening at nothing. An alabaster wall stared back at him, the quiet staircase echoing his breaths as he heaved a great sigh.

It couldn't be.

Kaneki bolted, running down the stairs two at a time. His coat flew back around him, billowing at his knees as his feet clapped against the vacuous stairway, a hollow sign that denoted urgency but not life. He pushed off the stone steps and steadied himself, taking a brisk, hurried pace down the corridor full of offices that they had passed earlier in the day to sign in.

"Hi," he said breathlessly, pushing his hair out of his eyes and smiling sheepishly at the man sitting at the desk. "Sorry to bother you, I'm just looking for some students that might go here?"

The man was middle aged, with the sort of long face that was reminiscent of a long-beaked bird. He frowned, and he squinted at Kaneki suspiciously.

"Do you have some ID?" he asked.

Kaneki pulled his wallet out of his pocket, and showed him the badge and ID card the CCG had gifted him. The man took it, examined it, and his frown deepened. He clapped the wallet shut and handed it back.

"What exactly are you looking for?" he asked. "I might be able to pull up some records."

"Um," Kaneki said, glancing around. "Yasuhisa Kurona and Yasuhisa Nashiro. I just want to know if they graduated or not."

"Hm…" The man swiveled toward his computer, his fingers dancing away at the keys while Kaneki stood awkwardly in the doorway. Seconds ticked by. And then minutes. He picked at his nails anxiously. Then, suddenly, the man swore under his breath.

"What?" Kaneki gasped, leaning forward. "What is it?"

"Looks like they're not even registered in the system," the man murmured, scratching his head bemusedly. "I remember them, though, I know they were here at one point."

"Oh, wow." Kaneki's eyes were wide. His stomach had tied up in anxious knots. "That's… strange."

But was it strange enough to warrant concern?

Nashiro and Kurona.

What were the odds?

The man sighed exasperatedly, and stood up from his chair.

"Hold on a moment," he said. "I have to find the hard copy of their files."

"That's fine!" Kaneki waved his hands quickly as he stepped further into the room. "Take your time…"

The man shuffled through a whole filing cabinet in his bemusement. He was definitely trying to go by year, but it was likely he'd forgotten what year the Yasuhisas had actually come here, and thus had to guess. By that point, Kaneki was standing in front of the desk, leaning forward to catch a better look at the files.

He thought he'd caught a glimpse of a name.

"Wait," he blurted, "go back."

The man paused, his fingers separating two files, and he glanced at Kaneki incredulously.

"Does that say Mutsuki Tooru on it?" Kaneki asked, pointing at the file that half stuck out of the cabinet drawer. Part of him was itching to rip it open and absorb all of its secrets.

"Oh. That kid?" The man lifted the file up. Kaneki was surprised to see how thick it was. There were papers spilling out of the ends of the manila folder. "You just missed him. A weird one, too. The stories people made up about him." The man chuckled. "It's like Suzuya never left, honestly."

"Suzuya Juuzou?" Kaneki was reeling. How many people did he know that had gone to this Junior Academy?

"Is that what the kid is calling himself now?" The man sighed, and he shook his head. "I can't keep up."

Kaneki was interested about Suzuya, and whatever trouble they'd gotten into when they'd been here, but he was more focused on Mutsuki.

"People made up stories about Mutsuki?" Kaneki placed his hands on the desk, his jaw setting. "Why?"

"Do you know him, or something?" The man was squinting at Kaneki again, like Kaneki was lying about being who he said he was, which was something truly uncalled for.

"We're roommates," Kaneki said. His eyes traveled to the folder in the man's fist. "May I see that file?"

"No, you may not?" The man looked at Kaneki sharply. "I don't care who you are, you need to give me a legitimate reason to read a file here. Or a search warrant. Got it?"

Kaneki threw his hands up in defeat. "Yes," he gasped. "I get it, I'm sorry."

"Uh huh…" The man slammed the drawer shut. "Can't find the file. Unfortunate. Right?"

"Uh… yeah…?" Kaneki stared at him. The man stared back blankly.

"Have a nice day," the man said.

"Okay. Um, thank you." Kaneki waved awkwardly. "You too?"

He walked away feeling like he was about to get a hit put on him for knowing too much. He didn't even know too much. He knew, basically, nothing at all.

Yasuhisa Nashiro and Kurona.

Something was wrong here.

And where did Mutsuki fit in?

Stories? As if Mutsuki, meek little Mutsuki Tooru, could cause enough trouble to be compared to Suzuya?

Kaneki wanted to know what was going on around here.

He walked away slowly, dazedly, hopelessly trying to tie the strings together.

"Excuse me," Kaneki gasped, flagging an older looking student down. "Did you happen to know Mutsuki Tooru?"

The girl's face twisted into a grimace, and her friends glanced at each other worriedly.

"I remember him," she said, wincing a little, as if she found it painful to bring up the memory. "Is he okay now? I heard he went back to the hospital."

"You actually felt bad for him?" one of the girl's friends blurted, looking alarmed. "He was so creepy!"

"He was quiet, yeah, but…" The first girl looked uncomfortable, her eyes flashing away. "I never saw him actually hurt anyone. He just seemed shy to me, and no one ever talked to him. And after what happened a few months ago…"

"What happened a few months ago?" Kaneki asked her urgently.

She glanced at him. She bit her lip uncertainly, her dark gaze flitting away sharply.

"You're an investigator," the friend pointed out, her brow furrowing. "Why are you asking about that kid? Did he die, or something?"

"No," Kaneki said stiffly. "He's my friend."

Both girls looked at each other in astonishment. The first girl bowed her head apologetically. "I'm sorry," she gasped. "I've been very rude. I didn't know him personally, he's younger than me by two years. But everyone knows about him."

"Why?" Kaneki asked incredulously, his nerves jumping restlessly as he tried to puzzle together what these girls were saying. Hospital? Back to the hospital. For what? Why would Mutsuki be hospitalized? Was he sick? "Is it because of what happened a few months ago?"

"That was a whole different issue," the girl sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. "Listen, if he's your friend, it's not really my place to tell you."

"I'll tell him," the friend chirped, much to the other girl's dismay. "Mutsuki's crazy. Like, actually certifiably insane. He likes cutting things. Like, it used to be only animals, but a few months ago—"

"Oh my god," the girl gasped, grabbing her friend's shoulder, "cut it out!"

But the other girl would not stop. She was looking into Kaneki's eyes, speaking with the utmost severity.

"He cut himself up so bad, he was out of school for a month. When he came back, he didn't talk to anyone. It's not really surprising that he dropped out."

Kaneki watched her with dull eyes. He found himself exhausted suddenly, as though her words had drained him of all sense of care. He felt the urge to shove her, to make her pay for being so insensitive and cruel, but he had a feeling it wasn't her fault. He recalled how eager Mutsuki had been to get away from this place.

Why?

What had happened here?

Kaneki didn't quite believe the girl's tale, that Mutsuki had cut animals—had cut up himself. Like, what the hell was that about? Sure, Kaneki didn't know Mutsuki that well, but even if he was as self-destructive as, say, Kaneki, it didn't make any sense that he'd cause anything else pain. No, none of this information added up.

This settled it.

Kaneki was getting that fucking file.

He went back into the building, pausing outside the registrar's door. He looked around him, his eyes scanning the walls hastily. They fell upon a clock that had been mounted on a far wall, half concealed by the protruding corner. Kaneki pressed himself up against the wall, and he untucked his shirt, letting a singular limb of his kagune slither out from the small of his back, scaling close to the wall and curving above the registrar's door. It hooked the clock onto its claw, prying it slowly from the wall.

And then, with an immense amount of force, he flung the clock across the hall, watching it sail around the corner and listening to the resounding smash that shook the entire corridor.

He promptly hid behind a corner, listening to a chair screech, and feet shuffle hurriedly. Kaneki peered around the corner, watching the man's back as it moved down the hallway, slow and uncertain.

Without missing a beat, Kaneki slipped into the registrar's office, walked over to the cabinet with Mutsuki's file in it, and cautiously opened it. The sound it made was ungodly loud, and Kaneki found himself wincing. He yanked Mutsuki's folder out of the drawer, and promptly closed it.

When he turned around, he noticed two other files on the desk.

He stared at the names blankly.

Yasuhisa Nashiro and Yasuhisa Kurona.

That motherfucker.

Kaneki scooped up all three files, pushing them beneath his coat and walking briskly out of the room, as though he had gone in merely to see if the registrar was in.

He was not.

As far as Kaneki could tell, he was still examining the remnants of the clock that had landed halfway across the corridor.

Where did he even begin?

What was the likelihood of these girls being Shiro and Kuro?

Kaneki stepped out into a courtyard, pulling the files out from within his coat and flipping one open. It just happened to be Kurona's.

The first thing he saw was a simple photograph of Kuro's unsmiling face as she sat in front of a plain white wall. It was an identification photo. She looked very young, far younger than Kaneki remembered her, and her black hair was chopped into a neat little bob that ended at her chin.

"Holy shit," Kaneki murmured, backing up slowly, and plopping down onto a bench. Shiro and Kuro were with the CCG. And— wait, Kanou! Kanou had been affiliated with the CCG too, right? Was that how he'd gotten ahold of Shiro and Kuro? They were orphans, wards of the CCG, and… they'd turned against the organization.

From what Kaneki understood, he and the Yasuhisa twins were polar opposites.

He had been forced into this life. Chosen to reveal his power and give up his freedom to the CCG.

And they had chosen this. Defected from the CCG and become rogue ghouls. Experiments.

What had become of them, in the future past? Kaneki could not recall. That day had been such a mindless blur. Pain and disgust coiled within him. He could taste the blood and the skin caught between his teeth. Even now. He remembered ripping open an artery, and the warmth of the acrid blood pouring into his mouth. It was like warm lemon juice. It didn't satisfy anything.

It just made him hungry for more.

He shook his head fiercely, slamming the file shut. He had to talk to Amon.

When he raised his head, he found that a man had stopped before him. He stared. The man stared back.

"Hello?" Kaneki averted his eyes. This man had a very intense gaze, one eye permanently sunken, and the other torn wide open. There was something about his eyes, about the way they settled upon Kaneki's face that made him feel like he was falling backwards in the sands of time, and drowning in the ocean that came to lap up the memories.

He was so heavily scarred that Kaneki itched to ask what had happened to him.

"Kaneki Ken, was it?" The man's voice was low and gravelly, the kind of voice that stuck with you long after you parted. Kaneki thought he might hear that voice in his head when he was in the dark, the sort of deep, whispery sound that could be heard behind walls, behind the cracks in doors. "My name is Tokage Goumasa. I heard you know one of my former students."

"Huh?" Kaneki's fingers clenched the files tightly, covering the names scrawled neatly on the adjoining tabs anxiously. "Oh! Wait, are you talking about Mutsuki?"

"Mutsuki Tooru." Tokage looked at Kaneki as if he could see the way the ridges of Kaneki's brain were formed. "Is he… doing well?"

"He's fine." Kaneki smiled tightly. He didn't feel right here. There was something unbearably familiar about the atmosphere this man let off, and everything in Kaneki told him to run for it. "I think he's still adjusting, but from what I can tell everything is okay. Why do you ask?"

"Ah…" Tokage's eyes averted sharply, and his scarred lip twitched. Was it a smile or a grimace? Kaneki could not tell. "Mutsuki was a troubled kid. I was simply curious about how the real world was treating him."

"He's fine," Kaneki repeated firmly. "And what do you mean by troubled? I've never had any issue with Mutsuki."

Tokage chuckled, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "It's not my place to say," he rumbled, his mismatched eyes flashing in the sunlight. "But with a past like his, it's no surprise that he has made the choices he has."

Kaneki stared at him, at the way his disfigured lips curled, and his fingers dug into the files, denting the folders and causing creases to erupt.

"Who the hell do you think you are?" Kaneki snapped, rising to his feet. Tokage glanced at him dully.

"I don't know what you mean," he said simply. "I told you who I was."

"Not your name, I mean your place here. Are you a teacher?" Kaneki's eyes whisked briefly over the man's face. "Are you in the guidance department? Do you have any real clearance to be speaking about Mutsuki like this?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm just wondering," Kaneki gasped, feigning an expression of subtle innocence. "I mean, you said you knew him, right? Normal teachers don't take such major interest in their students. It's sweet of you to ask about Mutsuki, but I can assure you, he's perfectly fine."

Kaneki felt the lies roll around inside his mouth, and he spat them softly, sweetly, wishing he could just make them truths.

His phone began to buzz, and he swiftly snatched it from his pocket. He'd already been thanking any and all forms of deities for blessing him with Hide, who would save him from this excruciating conversation. But when he checked the caller ID, he found it was a number the phone did not know.

Even so, he recognized it.

"Excuse me," he told Tokage curtly, brushing past the man and flipping his phone open. "Hello?"

He heard a deep, irritated sigh from the other line.

"Hi," Touka said dully. "It's Touka. I'm outside a bus station."

"That's good," Kaneki said, his voice softening. He couldn't keep the sadness from dripping into his tone. That's good? What good was going to come from Touka leaving? Risking her life for this mad plot he and Yoshitoki had concocted?

"I just wanted to let you know," she said. "I have to stay in contact with you, right?"

"That would be smart…" Kaneki realized Tokage was still watching him, and he shot a glance back at the man. Tokage's scarred gaze narrowed, and he turned abruptly away. "Before you go, though, I need to ask you about some stuff. Can I meet you?"

"Ugh…" Touka's groan was so loud and frustrated, Kaneki could practically hear her neck snapping back. "Fine, whatever. I'm sitting outside the bus station in Nerima, at the bus stop. You better get here quick, though, because if the bus comes, I'm getting on it."

"Noted," he said, smiling slightly. "I'll see you soon."

"Fine."

As Kaneki hung up the phone, feeling content, he heard a spine tingling crack from somewhere behind him. When he turned around, he saw Tokage's retreating figure passing around the corner, his thumb still pressed to his index finger.

He didn't want to dwell on the strangeness of this encounter, but part of him felt like it was an inevitable bout of panic. Like he would slip away into an unsightly version of himself, where he said what he didn't mean, where he did wrong upon wrong for the sake of building up his own selfish illusion of strength.

Part of him wanted to snatch Tokage with his kagune and fling him into a wall.

He didn't. But he wanted to.

He texted Amon on his way out to tell him something urgent had come up and he had to leave. He also remembered to include the fact that he'd managed to get Nashiro and Kurona's files.

Amon did not answer right away, but Kaneki didn't really peg him as someone who checked their phone often.

He wasn't in the 20th ward. How was he going to get to Touka in time?

The traffic in Tokyo was endless. He'd have to take the subway.

He crammed himself into a small car with countless strangers, hooking his arm around a pole and leaning heavily against it. He had a missed message from Hide, which he decided to listen to while the car rushed steadily onward toward its destination.

"Yo, buddy," Hide chirped from the other line. "I know you've got work stuff, but it'd be cool if you could swing by Anteiku tonight. Say, like, six? Ish? Anyway, I gotta go, and I know you're busy, so I'll leave you alone. Buh-bye now!"

Kaneki snapped his phone shut. Well, he could probably make it to Anteiku earlier than six, depending on how this meeting with Touka went.

With every stop the subway took, Kaneki felt more and more anxious. Was Touka ready to do this? To throw her life away for a cause that she did not believe in?

Kaneki watched his reflection and the dark windows of the subway car, the outer walls of the underground tunnels speeding past in a blur. The lights were straining as they bounced through the windows and out into the cool, restless darkness.

When the car came to a stop at the 20th Ward, Kaneki slipped off. He gripped his stolen files tightly. What to do with them…

The sun was dipping low in the sky as he walked from the subway station to the bus station. It was a mild day, not too cold, with clouds bubbling up around the tips of the yawning skyscrapers. His steps were brisk and hurried, a testament to how eager he was to see Touka before she left. What if she got hurt? What if she was killed? Because of him. What would he do if this was the result of his meddling?

"Touka!" Kaneki was slightly out of breath as he rounded the bus stop, his fingers squeaking against the translucent glass. She was sitting on a bench inside the bus stop, her feet kicked up, her sturdy looking combat boots resting on the metal seat. She was wearing multiple layers in spite of the mild temperature, and when Kaneki looked at her, he saw how disheveled she seemed to be.

Her hair, which was normally sleek and straight, was dull and mussed, flying in a few different directions. She'd tucked her bangs out of her one eye, though some still fell onto her forehead, curling around her nose. Kaneki suspected it was getting dirty, and she'd had no means to wash it. Her coat was heavy and fur trimmed, and she wore the joggers she'd worn when training with him, back when they had been closer, back when he'd known she'd cared.

"Huh." She glanced at him dully. She was half lying down, her back supported by a backpack. "Didn't think you'd actually make it before the bus. Why the hell is it running so late?"

"Traffic?" Kaneki offered. He exhaled sharply, pushing the folders beneath his arm and walking into the bus stop. He tentatively sat down by her feet. "I'm sorry. How long have you been waiting here?"

She cautiously sat up, her hair falling in uneven waves around her face. She stared ahead of her, her eyes tired and distant.

"Um… awhile," she admitted.

Kaneki sat in silence, taking that in. He tried to imagine Touka lying here from sunrise to sunset, her feet kicked up, her head cocked back, and her eyes watching the sun travel lazily from east to west. She did not want to leave.

Why was she doing this?

Touka had been here all day, watching buses pass her by. Never once getting on one.

"It's okay to be scared to leave home," Kaneki told her gently.

"I'm not scared," she snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I'm just— I don't know. Sad. Maybe…"

"That's okay too." Kaneki stared at her. She challenged his gaze, her eyes deep and intense, and he found it hard to gaze at them. Touka was stronger than he was. I wanted to protect her for so long, he thought, but I can't even look her in the eyes without feeling like the moon is falling out of the sky and crashing on top of me.

"Will this help?" she asked him sharply. "Am I doing any good at all?"

"I think you are," he told her gently. "But it's really all up to you. I… I can't help you once you're in there. You should get a throw away phone, and text me when and where you want to meet. Try not to get followed."

"Give me some credit," she muttered, glowering into her lap. "I can do this. That much I know for sure. I just don't see how it's gonna make a difference."

"Touka, just by complying, you're making a difference." Kaneki smiled at her, and she glanced at him sharply. "Trust me. You are going to change the world."

"That was never something I wanted," she whispered.

Kaneki found himself struck by a revelation.

Touka merely wanted to be safe and free and loved. She didn't care about changing things, so long as everyone around her was happy and comfortable. But here she was anyway, instigating the most abrupt, unbelievable change the CCG could possibly conceive.

A ghoul working on the front lines to provide information for the CCG.

It was something to marvel at.

"You're the bravest person I've ever met," he told her candidly. She jolted, her eyes moving swiftly to his face, searching it wildly. As though she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.

"That's bullshit," she sighed, running her fingers through her tangled hair. "I mean, thanks, but seriously. Bullshit."

"I'm serious," he said.

"I don't care, I'm calling bullshit." She shrugged. "Didn't you have stuff you wanted to tell me?"

"Oh. Right." Kaneki scratched the back of his head sheepishly. "I know this is kind of last minute, but you didn't pack your Rabbit mask, right?"

Touka stiffened considerably. She cautiously pulled her backpack closer, slipping it into her lap. "How did you know I was Rabbit?" she asked him with an edge of suspicion in her tone.

"Did you really think I wouldn't figure out you were Rabbit, when all the CCG knows about you is that you care about the Daughter Ghoul?" Kaneki shook his head. Lying to Touka was always felt strange. Like he would never manage to actually convince her of anything.

She scoffed, pulling her knees up to her chest and glowering out into the sunlit street. The sun was closing over the tops of the skyscrapers, bathing the city in orange light and sweeping shadows.

"Okay," she said, "so what if I brought it?"

"You can't be Rabbit right now," Kaneki sighed, looking away from her face. He felt so bad. About everything. Like everything was about to go wrong, and it would be all his fault. "I'm sorry, but it's too risky. The CCG won't trust you if they find out you helped kill Mado."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Touka's eyes flashed dangerously. "That crazy old bastard? He had to die! He wouldn't leave Hinami alone otherwise!"

She's telling herself that, Kaneki realized, watching her watch the bleeding sunset, to make it hurt less.

Rationalizing why you kill people is both the hardest and the easiest part. It was easy because it was simple. If you tell yourself it was necessary enough times, you might start to believe it.

The hard part was the fact that deep down, you never truly believe it.

Even when it's true.

"I know that," Kaneki told her, leaning forward and peering into her eyes. "But the CCG doesn't. And they won't care if you thought it was necessary. No one can know you're Rabbit. Okay?"

Touka hugged her legs tighter, growling into her knees and closing her eyes. Kaneki wished he could possibly know what she was thinking, but all he knew right now was that he had hurt her with this blind quest for change. He always hurt her in ways he could not fathom. With actions. With subtle reactions. With words, and with silence.

By protecting her, he was isolating her.

Why was he such a fool?

How many times had they both broken their own hearts out of stubbornness? He had learned from Touka that with a strong will, possibilities came pouring in.

And then suddenly they were both too willful to care who they hurt or how. They just wanted what they wanted, and they'd do everything and nothing to prove it.

Touka exhaled sharply. She dropped her legs and tore open her backpack. Fiercely, she pulled out her rabbit mask, and she dropped her cellphone into it. The tiny rabbit keychain jingled as she handed the mask over to Kaneki. He took it uncertainly.

"I need a new mask," Touka declared, zipping up her bag and shrugging it onto her shoulders. She jumped to her feet and marched forward. "Let's go, Mr. Investigator. You're getting one too."

"Excuse me?" Kaneki asked, a surge of excitement blowing through him. Getting a mask had not even crossed his mind. His old eyepatch mask had been lost, like the friendships he'd made in the future-past, like events he knew could never happen now. But the mere idea of doing something so reckless, so purposefully rebellious against the CCG, made his whole body tingle. He put Touka's phone into his pocket, and he tucked the files into the rabbit mask, pushing them beneath his coat.

"I'm not doing this by myself," she snapped, stuffing her fists into her coat. "If I have to work for the opposing side, you have to represent."

"Okay," Kaneki said. She looked at him, her brow furrowing.

"Okay?" She wrinkled her nose. "That's it? You're not gonna fight me?"

"No, I think you have a point." Kaneki smiled at her warmly. "You shouldn't feel alone in this. I'll get a mask too, and support you as far as I possibly can. Okay?"

She looked startled, and maybe even a little scared. She began walking faster, and Kaneki struggled to catch up. The sun had sunk behind the skyscrapers, and now the streets were hazy and yellow, buzzing from the newly lit streetlamps, dizzy in the sudden dusk. The neon lights of store signs flickered into life above them, and Kaneki watched Touka's back, the faux fur of her hood rustling in the wind.

She walked so confidently, like she could take a step and pave a street of gold just by her sheer willpower.

He wanted to get closer to her, to remember what it felt like to be close to her, but even at this distance he felt like he was intruding. Like she'd hate him more if he tried to stand at her side, be her equal.

She was so lovely to behold, and all he could do was watch her like philosophers watched the night sky. She was a beautiful mystery, and he would never unlock her secrets no matter how long he looked, no matter how hard he thought, and he couldn't find it in himself to care, because he would keep looking on and on until her light fizzled out.

"So how'd you find out the location of this secret base, anyway?" Touka asked, turning her face toward him slowly. Her hair was like in splattered against the filmy white lights that had blazed into life around them. The wind grasped everything loose about her and shook it out.

"I…" Kaneki struggled to find a suitable lie. "I followed someone. Which is exactly what you should say you did, if you're asked."

She frowned, her eyes flickering toward him sharply. "What kind of trouble is this organization?" she muttered.

"The worst kind." Kaneki gingerly placed a hand on her shoulder, and she stared at him, nearly coming to a stop. She shook him off, and continued walking at her brisk pace. "Please be careful when you're there, Touka."

"You know I'm always careful." She sounded sarcastic. Her tone was biting and smooth, her smile thin and wispy on her lips. She sauntered on forward, her boots clipping the sidewalk, easing between the waves of people that congregated on street corners. He followed her obediently.

Hysy was exactly how he remembered it, in a little alcove at the end of a narrow alley. Streetlamps didn't reach it, but its own lanterns hung at the door, illuminating the end of the path to weary travelers, such as themselves. Touka looked bored as she pulled the door open and walked in.

"Uta," Touka called, not even bothering to look around before pushing through the store. "Help a girl out. I need a new mask."

Uta rolled out from a tattered black curtain that separated the shop from what Kaneki imagined was his studio. The chair continued to roll until Uta was only meters away from them, his eerie black eyes sliding toward them curiously.

"This is a pleasant surprise." Uta's voice was as soft and cool as ice cream, the sort of chill that struck you hard and fast, and melted gradually as the seconds ticked by. "You usually call before making your visits, Touka."

"What can I say?" She offered a shrug. "I'm in a hurry. Do you think I could commission a new mask?"

"Well, that's no problem," Uta said, stretching his long legs off the chair and leaning forward. "But might I ask what happened to your old one?"

"Inconvenience." She scratched the back of her head. "I got caught up with the doves, and I need to lie low for a while without falling off the grid completely. You know?"

"Mmm…" Uta tapped his chin, and he stood up. "Please take a seat. Introduce me to your friend."

Touka plopped down in the revolving chair, spinning idly in place. Her backpack was still strapped firmly to her back. "That's Kaneki Ken. He's a nobody."

"Doesn't look like a nobody to me."

Uta had already taken Touka's face in his hands, turning it side to side.

"Looks can be deceiving," she told him crisply, jerking her chin from his grasp.

"That's true," Uta agreed. "Even the most beautiful flower can be poisonous when touched. May I look at your eyes, Touka? They're so pretty."

"Go for it." She stared into Uta's perpetually black eyes, her gaze intense and yet, strangely distant.

"You seem lost," Uta said, walking over to his desk in the corner and retrieving his measuring tape. "Have you gone through a dramatic change lately?"

"Is that pertinent to my mask design?"

"Possibly." Uta's tape made quick lines across the sides of her face. "I forget how symmetrical your face is. You always cover it up. Tell me, when will Ayato come back? I miss making masks for him. He has such delicate features."

Touka stiffened. Kaneki watched her pick at her nails anxiously, her fingers wringing in her lap.

"I sincerely doubt Ayato will be coming back any time soon," she said softly.

"What a shame."

The thing about Uta was that he used the same soft, easy voice for every word he spoke. There was no telling if he was truly sad about anything. Kaneki believed him to be genuine, but it was difficult to tell.

"Yeah." Touka looked so tired. Her agreement was resigned.

"Tell me more about Kaneki." Uta spoke as if Kaneki were not standing a few feet away. "Are you two close friends?"

Touka scoffed, which Kaneki found deeply offensive. "Does it seem like we're close?"

"Well, he doesn't seem to be injured in any way I can see." Uta smiled. "So, by my assessment, you must like him quite a bit."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Uta wrapped the tape around her head. "Do you have a crush on anyone right now?"

"Are you done yet?" Touka countered, looking irritated. "Your questions are bordering on pointless again."

"Hmm, just about…" Uta cocked his head. "Won't you answer me, though? It's an easy question. Yes or no?"

"No." Touka ducked under the tape and rose to her feet. "Kaneki, you're up. Have fun."

"Ah." Uta's eyes widened excitedly as he turned to look at Kaneki. "I didn't realize. You're both getting masks, then? Please sit."

Kaneki shrugged off his white jacket, rolling it around the rabbit mask and the stolen files. He set it gingerly down on a case that showed off a distinctively demonic mask, bearing the number twelve on its mantle. He sat cautiously in the chair, folding his hands in his lap.

"Uta, right?" Kaneki felt strange asking this. He knew exactly who Uta was. Uta watched him, his red irises trailing slowly across Kaneki's face, like comets across the sky.

"That's me." Uta cupped his chin. "There's something about you. Why do you wear a dove's coat?"

Kaneki had to consider it. Did he tell Uta the truth? His better judgment warned him. It was a bad idea to admit to it. But there was just something so earnest about Uta's voice, about the way he took your face and asked you the most mundane questions, and then fashioned a mask out of a piece of your soul.

"I'm a ghoul investigator," he told Uta calmly. "I just happen to be a real dove, I guess."

"Oh really?" Uta sounded vaguely surprised. "That's strange. You didn't strike me as the type."

"He's a ghoul, Uta." Kaneki shot Touka a glare, and she shrugged at him. "What? He already knew. You give off a really distinct smell, you know."

"Really?" Kaneki shifted self-consciously as Uta ran his thumb over the tape. "That's weird to think about."

"How does a ghoul become a ghoul investigator?" Uta asked curiously.

"You fuck up," Kaneki admitted.

Uta's nimble fingers traced from Kaneki's temple to his chin with his index finger, which made him shudder. "They know you're a ghoul?"

"Yes."

"And you're still alive?"

"Shocking, I know."

"May I see your kagune?"

Kaneki blinked rapidly. He shot a glance at Touka, who just watched as he stood slowly, his shoulders tensing as the small of his back began to itch. There was always a tingling sensation when his kagune slid from his back, like pins and needles, but only in one particular section, like someone had carved out an oval from his back and made it a pin cushion.

The sleek red limbs of his kagune snaked around him, coiling in the air defensively. Uta was not focusing on the kagune, however. It was Kaneki's eyes that interested him.

"One eye," he observed, reaching over and measuring Kaneki's forehead. "That's interesting. Would you cover your right eye for me?"

Kaneki did as he was told, feeling Uta's gaze weld his fingers into an eyepatch. There was no way he was escaping that now. He could tell Uta was thinking about concealing Kaneki's identity. That was the only reason Kaneki could think of that would result in this situation.

"Are you dating anyone right now, Kaneki?"

"No." He felt the measuring tape go taut against his skin.

"Would the CCG be angry if you dated a ghoul?"

"Probably." Kaneki grimaced. "Most likely. I doubt they'd last long."

Uta hummed, and he moved back, dropping into his chair and rolling toward his desk. "That's all, then. I'll call you when your masks are done."

"Can I put a rush order on mine?" Touka was staring off into the corner, her eyelids heavy. "I need it soon."

"It'll cost you more." Uta's shoulders hunched, and he let his arms hang limply between his knees. He watched Touka for a long time, nearly a minute passing before his shoulders slumped. He must have pitied her. "I'll give you a special discount."

"Why?" Touka looked at him, startled and confused.

"I'll call it a muse discount." Uta smiled. "If you can, please get Ayato to stop by. I'll give you a free mask."

"That's weird. But sure, if I can convince Ayato of anything I'd be a much happier person." Touka smiled back at Uta dimly. He was chewing on what appeared to be a translucent gummy worm.

That's not a gummy worm, Kaneki thought. He couldn't find it in himself to be sickened.

"No rush for me," Kaneki laughed as Uta's eyes moved toward him. "I'm just here for Touka."

"Really?" Uta's voice was slightly muffled by his chewing. "You didn't mention that before."

"It wasn't important," Touka sighed, rolling her eyes. She snatched Kaneki by the sleeve. "We better go. Send Kaneki the bill, okay?"

He wanted to chastise her for throwing the bill at him, but he knew he couldn't. He'd made her do this. It was only right that he paid for it all.

They walked through the darkened streets in silence. The back roads were always so quiet and dark, eerie passages that felt desolate in comparison to the vibrant neon lights and the incessant trills of the main roads. But even the dark, lonesome corners of Tokyo had life to them.

"It feels so strange," Touka said, bright blue lights flashing upon her face, reflecting in her eyes and leaving traces of words upon her irises. "I don't feel like I'm going anywhere."

"It's not forever," Kaneki told her. "You'll be back soon."

"Yeah," she murmured, pushing a stray curl out of her eyes and glowering at her feet. "Yeah, of course. I'll be back in no time."

"I told you that you won't be alone," Kaneki said, staring into her eyes, "and I meant it. I want you to call me if there's any trouble at all."

"There's gonna be trouble no matter if it's about me or not." She looked so defeated. He felt like a monster for doing this to her. "My brother… he's part of the Aogiri Tree. If I didn't do this, do you know what would happen to him?"

"He could survive an attack by the CCG," Kaneki said, hugging his coat to his chest. It was chilly now, but he didn't want to put it on just yet. "But a spy would provide certain intel which would make his chances less desirable."

Touka exhaled shakily. "No choice, then." She smiled vacantly. "No turning back either."

Kaneki studied her face. "I guess not," he whispered.

He didn't want her to go.

Even as he watched her walk into the bus stop, he didn't want to see her go. He wanted to cling to her jacket. He wanted to hug her and beg her to stay.

This was all his fault.

He'd pushed her into this.

How many times can I ruin your life before you hate me forever?

It was a question he could never ask, and she could never answer.

She turned around slowly. If there were tears in her eyes, it was too dark to see them.

"Bye, then," she said quietly.

"Goodbye…" Kaneki stood, feeling that the bus stop had separated them, as if Touka had passed through a doorway into another dimension, and he could no longer reach her.

I'm going to miss you, and I wish I'd chosen to stay with you the first time, when you'd wanted me to be with you, when things were simple and I knew you cared about me, were not things he could say to her. He had a thousand things bottled up inside him, and he wanted to shout them all. Touka made him feel like he could bleed sonnets, but when it came down to it, he just swallowed down the blood and let it make him sick.

"Take care of Hinami," Touka said, gripping the straps of her backpack, "okay?"

Kaneki smiled at her. "Of course," he told her gently. He took a step back. He didn't want to. "Come back safe. Okay?"

"Stop worrying about me." Touka smirked. "I'm good. I'll be fine."

"I trust you."

"And I'm trusting you," Touka said, her eyes narrowing. "Don't forget, the CCG is going to owe me big time. Make sure this doesn't fall through, Kaneki."

"I'd rather die," he said earnestly.

"Okay, that's too much," Touka laughed. Kaneki smiled, despite the fact that he'd been a hundred percent serious. "Be careful. The doves are terrible, and they've already threatened you a whole lot. I don't want you getting hurt."

It warmed his heart.

Knowing that she cared made his whole body warm, and a dumb smile creep upon his face.

"I'll be fine," he echoed her.

"Good."

And that was that.

Kaneki walked away. Touka stayed standing.

He watched the bus come from about a block away. Touka boarded. And then she disappeared.

Why did he feel like this would be forever?

Forever and ever stuck between them. They were stuck on different planes of existence.

Kaneki didn't want to check his phone. He didn't care what time it was. He needed a cup of coffee. He didn't want to see what Amon had replied to him with, and he didn't want to know how late he was to meet Hide. All he wanted was to stand next to Touka again, and watch neon lights pass over her eyes like they were deep blue mirrors, like they were a frozen ocean, with a surface so calm that light reflected off it and shattered.

He pushed open the door to Anteiku, feeling sluggish and drained. He wanted to lie down, but he didn't want to disappoint Hide.

The bell rang, a shrill introduction that did not get him far. He ran his fingers through his hair, looking around as the coffee sent his brain buzzing, nostalgia clawing at his brain and causing him to feel mildly dizzy.

"Hi, Koma." Kaneki wandered up to the counter. His old friend looked at him curiously. "Have you seen Hide?"

Koma scoffed. "Have I seen Hide?" he mocked. "Well—!"

"Hey, Kaneki!" Hide's voice filled up the entire room with its volume. "Check this out!"

Kaneki followed the voice, and when the voice stopped, it came from the entrance to the kitchen. Hide was standing there. Smiling goofily. He wore a white shirt. A black vest. An apron.

And Kaneki nearly cried out in utter shock.

"Holy shit." Kaneki's hand flew to his mouth. Hide just… grinned.

"Tada!" Hide flung out his arms. "Welcome to Anteiku!"

Chapter Text

"What…?" Kaneki found himself fumbling with a stool, dropping into it and blinking wildly. He felt like he'd been hit in the face with a hammer. Disoriented, he held the counter, fumbling for the right words to attach to this situation. But he found none. So he sat and stared as Hide stepped behind the counter, laying his hands flat against the surface and winked.

"Surprised?" Hide's grin was tight and wicked, like a viper after biting its prey. "Thought you might be."

"Hide…" Kaneki dropped his bundled coat, filled with some highly incriminating items, onto the counter, and he dragged his hands down his face. "Okay. What the fuck?"

"What?" Hide pouted, his shoulders stiffening up, rising to his ears. "Like it's so shocking, seeing me in a work environment? You're so cruel, Kaneki."

"No," Kaneki gasped, letting his hands fall into his lap. "Hide! That's not what I meant! I mean what are you doing like… as in, why are you working at Anteiku?"

"Because there was a position available, and I need cash?" Hide's smile became lazy and smooth, an easy look that fit his face far more than the sly grin he'd held before. "We all gotta live, dude."

"But… at Anteiku?" Kaneki asked weakly.

"The Manager gave his okay," Koma piped up, glancing over Hide's shoulder at Kaneki. "Apparently Touka's gonna be gone for awhile, so we're short-handed. Plus, Hide's really good with customers. If really bad at making coffee."

"Oi, Koma!" Hide pouted. "It's my first day! Give me a break, will you?"

"I dunno, kid," Koma chuckled. "I don't think I've ever tasted a worse cup of coffee, which is saying a whole lot."

"I'm learning!" Hide huffed, folding his arms across his chest and scowling. "Hello? First day? Jeez."

"I don't really know what to say," Kaneki admitted truthfully. He really didn't. This all seemed like way too much.

"Maybe start by congratulating me?" Hide's smile was sparse and thin. "This is my first big boy job, you know. It's actually a step up from delivery boy, which had been the initial plan."

"Your ambitions are truly scaled to nations," Kaneki said dryly. He smiled at Hide wanly. "You're face isn't quite as welcoming as Touka's, but I guess it'll do. Can you give me a regular coffee?"

"I'd be offended," Hide sighed loftily, "if it were anyone but Touka. But not even I can deny her charm."

"That girl has all the charm of a deer shedding its antlers," Koma piped up.

Both Kaneki and Hide glanced at him. Kaneki resisted the urge to laugh, but Hide had feigned a look of utmost severity, so Kaneki had to keep solemn for dramatic effect.

"If by that you mean cryptically majestic, then I agree."

"Just be glad she isn't here to hear you call her majestic," Kaneki joked. "You'd have a mouthful of your own teeth."

"You think?" Hide blinked innocently. "But Touka's really coming around to me!"

"That's doubtful," Koma said.

Hide pouted. He didn't seem discouraged so much as downtrodden. Perhaps he was disappointed at their lack of faith in him.

In the stillness that came after, while Koma attempted to show Hide the correct way to brew coffee, Kaneki was overwhelmed by the idea that this was real. He and Touka, who had seemed to be innately tied to this place, no longer belonged here. It was Hide who had taken their place. It was Hide who carried on their legacies.

Kaneki felt like he should feel happier about this development.

But envy was a hollowing emotion that ate up all the space in his heart without the generosity of filling it up again.

He and Touka had gone in their separate directions, and it felt even more unbearable this time.

Because she had left him, and he did not have her resolve to wait for a sign that she was still out there, that she would still care enough to return.

Kaneki had so admired— emulated Touka's strength, but when it came down to it, he could do nothing in the face of her faith. He could not even dare to mimic something so pure, so grounded, so true.

He didn't think he believed in anything, and maybe that was his whole goddamn problem.

Another customer came in as Koma tried to assist Hide, which caused him to curse under his breath. "Do you think you can do this by yourself?" he asked Hide, holding a jar of coffee grounds out to Hide. Hide took it gladly, and he beamed up at him.

"No sweat," he gasped.

Koma didn't look convinced, but he had to compartmentalize. Kaneki remembered the feeling pretty well. Budgeting time was an art form when you were on the clock.

Hide sort of fumbled with the coffee maker, looking a little quizzical as he peered over the top of it into the filter. He lifted up his kettle of water, drawing it close and lifting it above the pour over maker. Kaneki winced as he tilted the kettle over suddenly, keeping it at a ninety degree angle and letting the steaming water flow directly downward.

"Hide…" Kaneki couldn't help it. He jumped off his stool and rounded the counter. "Stop. What are you doing?"

Hide looked up at him in slight awe. He looked back down at the water gathering inside the filter, wetting only a small cylindrical section of the grounds. That particular section looked like a patch of mud amidst a dry forest floor.

"Uh…" Hide smiled sheepishly. "I'm doing it wrong again, huh?"

"You have steady hands," Kaneki sighed, "but no patience. Just…" He glanced at the kettle. The smell of the coffee was making his mouth water, and his brain was having a frenzy over the mere thought of holding it. Like maybe he could turn back time, and this world would make sense again.

Hide offered the kettle to him.

Kaneki's fingers twitched. He wanted to reach toward it.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he withdrew his hands. He took a large step back as he tried to regain his sense of direction. He felt displaced.

One of them did not belong here.

It was taking too long for Kaneki to realize it was him.

"Just go slow," Kaneki urged, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Stop trying to rush the process. You need to wet all the grounds, and not just pour into one section."

"Should I do that swirly thing with my wrist that Yoshimura did?" Hide bobbed the kettle around, and Kaneki could hear the water swishing within it, which made him nervous.

"Yes," Kaneki said, "do exactly that. Also, hold on a minute." He flipped his phone open and pressed it to his ear. "Hello?"

"Kaneki," Amon sighed. "It's been hours. Where did you run off to?"

"A-ah!" Kaneki stepped back, scratching his head and laughing nervously. "Amon! I'm… I'm just—!"

"Hanging with me," Hide said, smiling encouragingly. Kaneki's mouth was left open, unsure how to respond as Amon tsked sharply from the other line. "Go on. It's the truth. Just tell him we never see each other anymore. Tell him."

"I'm… with Hide. Sorry, I lost track of time. Um…" Kaneki pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sorry. I can meet you somewhere."

"Why don't I come to you?" Amon didn't sound insistent, which convinced Kaneki that he could somehow change the man's mind, but he also did not want to rouse suspicion. Kaneki's heart was beating a symphony into his ribcage. "I'd like to discuss the files missing from the Junior Academy. You wouldn't happen to have anything to do with that, would you?"

"Me?" Kaneki's nervous laugh bubbled up in his mouth and spilled out like a sink overflowing. "Steal classified files? Doesn't sound like my MO."

"Holy shit," Koma whistled from across the counter as Kaneki plopped back down into his seat. Kaneki saw Hide's eyebrows raise, a proud little smirk on his lips.

"This isn't very funny, Kaneki."

"You sound like you're smiling." Kaneki felt satisfied by that. He could at least admit he and Amon could share some sense of humor. "How much trouble am I in?"

"Depends," Amon said, "on what you found. I know Nashiro and Kurona didn't graduate, but no other information was disclosed, and their digital files have been completely erased. I have a feeling you're getting an eerie vibe from this."

"An eerie vibe from two girls disappearing off the face of the earth with no explanation or fuss?" Kaneki didn't want to sound bitter, but he did. He was so goddamn bitter. Shiro and Kuro, as fucked up as they'd been, did not deserve this life. "Of course not."

"If you're at your apartment, I can swing by. I have a strange feeling about this, and I'd like to follow my intuition. You should do the same, if you suspect something is off."

"Oh boy, do I…" Kaneki grimaced. "Um, yeah. I can meet you at my apartment."

"I can pick you up if you aren't there, you know."

Kaneki pressed his lips together thinly.

Fuck.

He was not going to get out of this.

"Sure…" Kaneki tried to sound positive. It had failed. "I'm… at a coffee shop called Anteiku. Um…"

"I can find it. I'll be right there."

Amon hung up, and Kaneki was filled with cold, ruthless dread.

"Fuck." He snatched his coat from the counter, unraveling it to get at the files he'd hidden. Touka's rabbit mask came spilling out instead, colliding against the tile and bouncing away.

Kaneki froze, his muscles locking as it rolled to a stop, teetering like a frisbee against the ground. Her phone had fallen beside it, its tiny rabbit charm lying defeated upon its side.

When Koma met his eye, he knew they both had the same gut-wrenching reaction.

No one could know that Touka was Rabbit.

"Give it to me," Koma commanded briskly, tossing his kettle aside and untying his apron. "Let's go. Hide, watch the front."

"Aye-aye," Hide sang, though his eyes told a different story, quick and beseeching, soaking up the shifted energy in this room like a sponge.

All the customers in the shop must've been ghouls, because Kaneki couldn't imagine anything more suspicious than Koma's somber face. Kaneki tucked Touka's phone into his pocket and picked up her mask, handing it over cautiously. Koma snatched it from his fingers.

"This'll have to go," he muttered, starting towards the back room.

Kaneki considered his words. He glanced toward the door. And then he staggered after Koma.

"Wait!" he gasped, catching him by the arm in the backroom. Koma turned to glance at him. There was sadness in his eyes. His brow had softened, and his jaw had hardened. Kaneki released him, taking a meager step back.

Koma took a deep, shuddering breath.

"Do you know," he breathed, "what you've done to her?"

He clutched the rabbit mask in both his hands.

Kaneki's throat constricted.

Did he know?

Did he know?

What kind of fucking question was that?

"What… do you want me to say?" Kaneki took another step back, this time in defense. He felt like he was being cornered, like Koma had been itching to get him alone. The man didn't seem angry, which was a godsend, but he did seem to harbor some heavy resentments. And Kaneki couldn't even blame him.

Because who else was at fault but Kaneki Ken?

When Touka's life went to hell, it would always be a sin of his own doing.

"I want you to tell me why." Koma held up Touka's mask, and he shook it fiercely in his fist. His expression had crumpled like the falling walls of Jericho. "She can't come back from this. You know she won't come back from this, and you let her go anyway."

It sounded like an accusation and felt like an execution.

"That's true," he whispered.

"Why?" Koma exhaled, and he smiled vacantly. "Please. Give me this, okay? I need to know why you thought she was expendable."

"She's not," Kaneki gasped.

"Then why did you let her do it?"

"Because she's Touka!" Kaneki thought he might cry if this continued. He didn't want this. He didn't want to act like Touka had been sentenced to die in a prison somewhere far away. She was free, for now, and that mattered. She was fine right now. That mattered. "She made up her mind, and I wasn't about to fight her on something she was adamant about! I'm not stupid, I know she'd bite my head off. I didn't try because I didn't want to hurt her any more than she's already been hurt."

"You got her into this mess in the first place." Koma's brow furrowed. "Is this plan of yours even worth it?"

"I believe it is," he replied, wanting to sound resolute and instead sounding reedy. Desperate.

"Your word might not be good enough to get that girl back alive." Koma shoved Touka's mask against Kaneki's chest. "And if it isn't… if she dies because of your incompetence… man, you'll be answering to the Devil Ape."

Kaneki wanted to smile, but this was not the familiar comedic gloat he expected from Koma. No, this was a real threat, the kind that did not settle in right away, and instead ate at you little by little until you were treading around basic actions trying to puzzle out when and where and how the threat would destroy you.

He cupped the mask in his hands, the cool surface of the mask numbing his fingers. It was Touka's identity he held in his hands.

What was he supposed to do with it?

Throw it away? Destroy it?

He hugged it closer to his chest, wishing that he had more time.

"Give Touka some credit," Kaneki said softly, setting the mask on the counter beside the sink. "If she's anything at all, then I know she's strong. If she can't do this, then no one can."

Koma's expression, which had already been softened by his grief, could only melt. He looked hung, like he was being pulled apart in ten different directions, and his brain could not keep up with the pace his heart was setting.

"You care about her." Koma's eyes seemed to widen. He gave a shaky, disbelieving laugh. "Ah, damn, did I misread you, kid."

"It happens," Kaneki admitted. "I guess I'm not what anyone expects of me. I don't know if that's a good thing."

"It might not be." Koma eyed him as though he was coming to the realization that Kaneki was still fairly young. "I get you're taking a big risk for our sake, Kaneki, but you've gotta understand. You expect the whole world to change just because you exist. And it really isn't that simple."

Kaneki didn't want to hear these words. He didn't want to hear the truth.

"I never assumed it would be," he replied, smiling faintly. He let his fingers linger on Touka's mask, even as he took a step back. "Please take care of Touka's mask. When she comes back, she might want it again."

And with that, he turned away. He could walk away from Anteiku— he'd done it before. He'd do it again. He felt like everyone around him underestimated his ability to shed his responsibilities and feelings like dogs shed their fur.

He could easily run away again.

Don't tempt him.

He was feeling too much, and it was overwhelming. He just needed to lessen the load. Dig his fingers into his chest, dig around through the muscle, hook them around his ribcage and pry it all open. The bad stuff would flow out, the fear, the anxiety, the insecurities, the whispers in his brain that told him who he was and how he was and why he was and how all that was all so wrong. It would just pour out of him. And then he would feel so much better.

Right?

Don't tempt him.

He was forgetting what it felt like to be in control.

Amon was sitting at the counter when Kaneki came out of the kitchen, much to his dismay. Hide was chatting to him amiably, like Hide tended to, and Amon was nodding while flipping through a file. Kaneki couldn't tell whose file it was, but it made him nervous. Everything about this scene made him nervous.

Amon raised his head.

"Ah," he said. "There you are. What were you doing in the back?"

"I spilled sugar all over Kaneki," Hide admitted sheepishly. "He was just cleaning himself up in the back."

Amon chuckled, buying the lie as anyone would. Hide's face was too genuine to suspect. "The first day at any job can be disconcerting," he reassured Hide gently. "Don't worry too much about it."

"Who said it was an accident?" Hide shot Kaneki a mischievous smirk, and he winked. "Anyhow, Kaneki deserved it."

"Uh…" He sighed. "How… exactly…?"

"I dunno, man, when don't you deserve it?"

"You're… the worst," Kaneki murmured, closing his eyes. "The actual worst."

"You love me!" Hide sang. "Also, pay for your coffee before you skedaddle. Here, I even put it in a to-go cup. Because I care."

Kaneki opened his eyes, and he scowled at the cup that had been pushed into his face. He snatched it from Hide's fingers roughly. "Could have fooled me," he said.

Hide stuck his tongue out playfully. Amon simply stared between them, an amused expression crossing his face.

"Anyway," Amon said, straining his voice so Kaneki knew he was trying to get them all back on track, "I'm having trouble grasping exactly what is happening with the Yasuhisas. Kaneki, what made you take these files?"

He didn't want to admit his theory, that the Yasuhisa twins had been coerced by Kanou into becoming half ghouls. That was way too suspicious. He had to instigate this naturally.

"I thought it was strange," Kaneki said distantly, "that those two girls, who you said were… what? Dedicated to becoming investigators? That they just vanished, with no warning, no explanation— and nobody is asking any questions about it."

Amon nodded, humming softly in agreement as he looked back down at the file. "We're on the same page, then," he said, his strong brows knitting together. "I've got a bad feeling about this. The only trouble is, I doubt ghouls are responsible."

Kaneki froze, trying to process his words. He gripped his coffee cup gingerly, and he smiled. "Why do you say that?"

Amon looked at him. He sighed, and he laid out the file on the counter. Kaneki noticed how all the other customers, who he'd previous pegged as ghouls, sort of eyed them distrustfully from their various seats. If their eyes lingered for too long, Amon would notice.

He had to get him out of here.

"Well, to put it simply…" Amon frowned deeply. "If Nashiro and Kurona had encountered ghouls, resulting in their deaths or kidnapping, the CCG would frankly exploit the hell out of it."

"Ha!" Kaneki couldn't help but choke out, much to Amon's alarm. He tried to cover it up, but he couldn't help feeling smug. "Isn't that the truth? I'm glad you're not totally deluded."

Amon's eyes were quick and vicious. He stared Kaneki down with the heat of the pits of hell. "I know what you must think of me," he said sharply, "but believe it or not, I'm capable independent thought."

"Then maybe you should act like it," Kaneki stated coolly. Even as he spoke it, he felt the chill of dread that signified he would regret it.

The look Amon shot him could only be described as scathing.

Hide whistled lowly, drumming his fingers against the counter top.

It hardly mattered what else Kaneki wanted to say. Amon's anger did not quite reach fever pitch, but he was clearly irritated, and gathered up the files briskly as he rose to his feet. He then paused, peering over one, and glancing at Kaneki sharply.

"I thought the Director had Mutsuki's only file," he said. His tone was accusatory.

Kaneki glanced at it, and he shrugged. "Apparently not. Look, I'm sorry. Let's just go, okay?"

Amon looked unconvinced, but he nodded. Kaneki dug into his pocket and dropped a few bills onto the counter. Hide looked puzzled.

"That's too much," he said confusedly.

"Tips, Hide," Kaneki reminded, shrugging on his coat as he walked toward the door.

"That's still too much!" Hide sounded vaguely distressed, which was new. "Hey! Kaneki, take some of this back!"

He followed Amon out the door, clutching his coffee and wondering how badly he'd fucked up this time.

The coffee wasn't nearly as bad as Koma had made it out to be, but it was still pretty shitty. He sipped at it anyway as he sat down in Amon's car, looking away nervously. He didn't want to seem nervous. He didn't want his expression to reflect the turmoil within him.

It was quiet in the car for a minute or so, an awkward silence that blanketed them, stifled them, let the world become nothing but bated breaths and smeared headlights that ceaselessly roved past.

"What is it about me," Amon asked sharply, suddenly, sullenly, "that makes you so ready to judge?"

"Um, I don't know," Kaneki murmured. "Maybe your inability to process that ghouls are people too?"

"I'm trying, you know." Amon exhaled sharply, glowering out into the dark street. "I don't want to make you angry, but, frankly, your opinions are illogical and radical, and I can't… really accept them."

"Maybe," Kaneki offered, "you just won't let yourself."

Amon glanced at him. He shook his head fiercely.

"I can't just change my beliefs to please you," he sighed. "You are the only ghoul to ever give me any reason to doubt. And you alone are not good enough."

"Then stop lashing out every time you see a ghoul and listen." Kaneki sunk into his seat, thumbing his cup anxiously. "Also… thanks."

Amon glanced at him. "For what?"

"For admitting I'm a ghoul." Kaneki cracked a smile, and Amon rolled his eyes. "What? Come on, you hate saying it, I know you do."

"Yeah, well, you're very insistent." Amon drummed his fingers against the steering wheel before turning the car on. "Kaneki, about the Yasuhisas…"

He leaned forward, staring at Amon intently. Shiro and Kuro needed to be top priority right now. If he could… by some miracle… just save them from themselves, from Kanou's influence… then he would consider much of this trial to be worth it.

"We need to decide now if we want to pursue this." The car began to accelerate, and Kaneki considered his words carefully. "Investigators are usually given freedom to pursue leads they think may become something big, but I think we can both agree that whatever this is, it probably was not the fault of ghouls. So decide now. Do you want to continue to pursue this?"

Kaneki didn't even need to think about it.

"Let's find them," he said firmly. "Show them that at least someone in the CCG cares that they're missing."

Amon smiled. He nodded firmly.

"Okay," he said. "I have an idea of where to start."

Once upon a time, running away had been harder.

It had been the urgency of strangers crashing through her door, the feeling of Ayato's soft, tiny fingers crushed beneath hers, the abrupt tearing sensation of her kagune ripping open her back and deciding that her body was not solely her own. Not yet. It was the beating of her heart in the hollow of her ears, the ballad of her breaths hitting the cool night air, the weight of her little brother trudging her steps. It was the aching feeling that erupted in her stomach, the sensation of a claw slicing through her navel and scooping her belly out, leaving her with nothing but an empty, empty, emptiness that could not be filled.

Once upon a time, running away had been easier.

Empty bellies led to empty hearts, and they grew tired of one place far too quickly. So they gathered up their seven belongings, stuffed them in a bag that they shared, and went off to terrorize another part of the city. Drifting made it easy to live on fumes, to live day after day with enough detachments to make it alarming that they had never floated off this world and dissipated completely. Waifs created their own rules, decided their own fates, and had no home but the company they shared. Running away from a busted old, boarded up building on the edge of the city that would be demolished was hardly a difficult task. They'd burn down the places they'd stay in if it meant they could run faster.

But now, running was a whole lot harder.

Now she had nothing to run from but the thing she was running towards.

And she fucking hated it.

She bought a throw away phone like Kaneki had told her.

She didn't like that she was putting so much faith in some shady ass bastard half-breed snot.

Like no fucking thanks.

Her doubts were swimming in her brain like water snakes, flitting in and out and frightening her to no end.

She rode a bus, and then a few different trains, and then found herself treading through the woods. All in all, a very exciting trip, with the usual band of riff raff trying to get a piece of her. Like, why did other ghouls try so goddamn hard to fight her? Didn't they know she didn't have the goddamn time or patience to deal with their bullshit?

She saw the building from a vantage point in the woods. She decided to camp out until dawn, scaling a tree and lounging in the branches, flicking spiders off leaves and watching the moon through the canopy of foliage above her. She wanted to sleep. Her eyes were itching, her vision bleary, and she knew she could attribute that to spending multiple nights camping out in public transits. Curled up on a bus stop bench, upright with her head pressed to a darkened window, and now under the stars, inhaling the crisp November air and feeling the solemnity of nature coil itself around her.

If she thought too much, would she try to turn back?

Had she already crossed the point of no return here?

The sun cracked the sky open, sending a milky tide through the horizon line, smearing out the stars and washing out the blackness. Her body was stiff, immobile, achy, and her eyes felt heavy, like someone had smeared sparkles under her eyelids, and those sparkles were made of lead.

She shimmied out of the tree, her muscles rigid, and she dropped down into the dead leaves, listening to her boots crush them with some vague satisfaction. The forest was still dark, though light did seem to pass through the branches in slivers, breathing a grayish tint into the frigid air. She readjusted her backpack, and began to walk forward towards the abandoned building. Kaneki had advised her to be quick, obedient, and impressive.

Seemed easy enough. The obedience thing could be worked with. Probably.

When she neared the building, she became distinctly aware of another presence in the woods. She continued walking, her pace even, her strides long, but she tuned herself into her surroundings, listening carefully. There were probably two of them. Possibly more, given her limited range.

She came into the clearing that looked over the abandoned building, and she cocked her head. What a simple base of operations.

Before she could drop down, she heard the whistling of a leg rushing through the air behind her. So she very promptly ducked away, feeling the gust of air breeze above her, and she whirled around, catching the leg with her nails biting into the calf and jerking the body up so their other foot slid off the ground. She tossed them aside, watching them crumple into a pool of red fabric.

Another one came sailing toward her, and she took a step back, dropping from the overlook and kicking steadily off the incline to keep her momentum. She touched down easily on her feet, peering up at the cloaked figures. They were watching her from above.

And then they both dove at her.

She skidded back, dodging their simultaneous attacks breezily, feeling that they must know each other very well, because they were consistently divvying up their chances to attack, never giving her a second to breathe or retaliate. Her feet were gliding easily, her stance level and her body tense. If they couldn't land a hit on her with both of them attacking at once, then she could probably take them.

They weren't giving her much emotion while throwing themselves at her. Their hearts were not in this fight. They made mechanical shots, easy maneuvers that were smart, but weak. She easily backpedaled and dodged, skidding sideways and jumping up, blocking and flipping back. She was just waiting for the right opening, waiting for the right moment to strike back.

She found it as they regrouped, and decidedly split once more. They came at her from both sides.

Idiots.

She shot forward with a burst of speed seconds before they both attacked, causing them to crash into each other. She pivoted and kicked one in the face, causing them to crash onto their back. The other bounced on their hands and landed on their feet, albeit shakily. Touka stomped on the stomach of the one on the ground, and they yelped.

"Is that the best you got?" She let her boot sit on top of the chest of the one she'd grounded. She felt something slither around her ankle, and she swore softly as she was yanked off her feet and tossed into the air. The moment she was airborne, the other fighter was flying towards her, bikaku glistening in the eerie mist of dawn.

She flipped in midair, shifting her weight so they sailed past her. She skidded on her feet, and promptly retaliated, her leg shooting up and smashing into their stomach. They caught her by the hair, and she elbowed them in the throat. Their bikaku was inches from her jugular, and she blocked it with her own kagune, which tore through her back like blood crystalizing in the timid sunlight.

This one was down for the count. She knew it by the seven shards that had pierced through their arm and upper torso. She focused on the other one, who had gotten up and was watching her staidly. She threw out her arms.

"Let's go!" She gestured toward her. "C'mon! I'm not fucking around now. If you wanna fight, I'll give you a goddamn fight!"

The ghoul peered at her.

"What?" she snapped, her kagune illuminating her face. She knew she looked demonic. She bathed in it. This was her fucking element. She was positively glowing in all her furor, all her disgust. These guys were puny. "Are you scared of me? Tough fucking luck. You started this fight, and you're gonna end it!"

They held up their hands.

"I yield," he said loudly. "Kirishima."

She froze for a moment after hearing her name, trying to figure out why the hell this guy knew it.

And then she was tackled.

"Fuck," she exhaled into the dirt, her kagune guttering out. The other ghoul pinned her down, pressing her face into the scratchy leaves. When she inhaled, she got a mouthful of decay.

"You think they're related?" the other ghoul asked, lifting her up and clamping her hands behind her back.

"Look at her." In the paleness of dawn, the other ghoul's mask was revealed to her. He had blocky looking P on an otherwise plain white surface. "An angry face like that? Hard to replicate."

"Hm." She gritted her teeth as he took her face and turned it toward him. She decidedly elbowed him, feeling one of the shards from her kagune burrow deeper into his side. He hissed, and threw her to the ground. "Bitch!"

"Touch me again and you'll get one of those through your dick, asshole!" Touka jumped to her feet, dusting herself off. "Who the hell are you?"

"We're asking the questions here." The other ghoul was circling her. She felt self-conscious. "You're a Kirishima. I can tell that much."

"She definitely has the temperament…" the other ghoul muttered. "Bro, what should we do with her?"

"I'm not dealing with that bratty half-pint's tantrum," the ghoul with the P mask snorted. "We can't kill her, that's for sure."

"No fun…" The other ghoul, who had a large X on his mask, plucked the shards from his chest.

"Plus," P Ghoul sighed, "she's pretty powerful. Aren't you, Kirishima?"

He called her Kirishima-chan.

What the fuck, she was gonna riot.

"Do you like your face?" She looked at him, rolling her shoulders. "Because if you even slightly appreciate the current dynamic of your features, you should choose your words more carefully."

"Oh my god, make it stop," the X one groaned. "One Kirishima was bad enough!"

"Quiet. No matter how shitty their personalities are, they're both clearly talented fighters." The P ghoul folded his arms across his chest. "We should bring her back to Tatara. See what he thinks of her."

"Really…?" The X one sighed. "Okay. I'll trust your instincts on this one."

"Hi. Still here." Touka waved sharply. "Who's this Tatara asshole?"

"Oh, bro," X whispered. "He's not gonna like her."

"She'll learn to keep her mouth shut." P stepped in front of her, and he offered out a hand. "We're the Bin Brothers. By the look of you, you're Kirishima's sister. He's a colleague of ours."

"That's one way to put it," X sighed.

"You should join us." P's hand flexed. "And count yourself lucky it was us who found you out here, and not Yamori."

She knew this was probably exactly what she wanted, but she couldn't help being a total douchebag about it. "Join you with what, exactly?" She hooked her thumbs beneath her backpack straps and rolled her eyes. "You guys are shady as hell. Whatever, you said you knew my brother?"

"He should be back by now." P continued to hold out his hand. "Come on. You're here because you heard about Aogiri, aren't you? Well take my advice and take my hand. You have a lot of potential, Kirishima. You might as well showcase it."

Touka felt the urge to smack his hand away, to turn on her heel and march off. But she didn't. She eyed it uncertainly, and she reached out, tentatively grasping her hand. He then dragged her forward. She didn't think this was the right path, but she had to take it anyway. She was already too far gone.

Firstly, she did not like this motherfucker holding her hand. He could lead her without touching her, couldn't he? Also, she had no idea what she was supposed to do now. Getting into the building would be less awkward than she initially thought because she had these guys with her, but she was still kind of at a loss.

The building was even more dilapidated inside than it was outside. The entrance was a heavily graffitied steel enforced door, the kind that was reminiscent of old factories. Upon entering, the scent of decaying, fossilizing wood hung in the air. Rot was evident in the way light peeked through the skeletons of walls, bare-boned ribbing of the musty interior. There was sheetrock and debris scattered across the floor, like a patchwork blanket of artificial snow. It crunched beneath their feet.

She'd yanked her hand from the P bastard immediately upon crossing the threshold, wiping it on her joggers and glowering at him. The fact that he'd had it for as long as he had made her want to rip his head off and play soccer with it.

"Did you come to Aogiri intentionally?" P asked her.

She wondered if she should lie, considering her options and what was suspicious versus what would be impressive. That was what Kaneki had told her.

What should she say?

"Kinda…" She frowned, wondering how shitty this explanation was going to be. "I guess I'm just a little lost right now. I figured this might be a good place to…" Her eyes whisked around the crumbling corridor, trailing across the cracked ceiling and split doorframes. "Find myself."

It was as good a lie as any.

The brothers did not respond, but she assumed her explanation sufficed. When ghouls moved from place to place, it was difficult to suspect much. Everyone knew what it was like. What it felt like to be uprooted and alone.

They passed by a few open rooms, and Touka spotted piles of sleeping bodies curled up on the busted floors. A chill ran through her, and she had to wonder what type of place she'd entered. It felt like a prison here— no, not even just simply a prison.

Like a labor camp.

She quickened her pace, leaving the brothers in the dust. She turned a corner, and found herself nearly running into a very large, very unnerving man who looked down his broad nose at her and smirked. Instinctually, she leapt back. The Bin Brothers caught her by both arms and shoved her forward again.

"Chill the fuck out," she snapped at them, shrugging her shoulders up to her ears defensively. "The next time either of you touch me, I'm taking fingers."

"Oh?" The eerie man's smirk stretched across his face, and she glanced at him in disgust. Whoever the hell he was, she wanted nothing to do with him. "Now isn't that a pretty threat. Tell me, can you make good on it?"

Touka opened her mouth to retort unkindly, but the Bin Brothers shifted in front of her.

"Enough, Yamori," P said coolly. "This one's not for you."

Yamori feigned a frown, though his eyes were alight with amusement. He stretched back, his hands stuffed in the back pockets of his white dress trousers, and he hummed idly.

"It's cute," he said, "that you two think you could stop me from taking her if I wanted her."

Touka's eyes widened. His words hit her hard, the mere idea of anyone taking her anywhere, as though she were not real, as if she were not in control of her own body, made her nauseous.

"What," she seethed, "the fuck—!"

X grabbed her by the shoulder and forced her forward, past Yamori and through a corridor. "Stop talking," he hissed at her. "You don't want to be the focus of Yamori's attention, okay?"

She snatched his hand and bent his finger back sharply, listening to it snap. He yelped in pain, and she shoved him into a wall.

"I wasn't fucking around when I said don't touch me." She sniffed, stuffing her hands into her pocket. That Yamori guy made her stomach squirm, and she found it hard not to think about how things might escalate if she took a misstep.

"You're so much like him," P spat suddenly from beside her, gliding past and taking the lead. "You'd be smart to change if you want to get anywhere in life."

"Don't patronize me," she told him flatly. "I'm not here to get lectured on my shitty personality. It's not exactly new to me."

It wasn't. People had been telling her all her life that she was just too fucking much. What was that supposed to mean, anyway? She was herself, a calloused patchwork of emotions that could not be defined and could not be extricated from one another. When she spoke, she told truths with boiled blood slicing through her teeth. When she walked, she deliberately sought to crush the ground beneath her as fast as she possibly could.

It wasn't any surprise that she rubbed most people the wrong way. It wasn't like she wanted anyone to actually like her.

It wasn't like she craved affection.

It wasn't like she wanted to be loved.

She thought about Kaneki and Hide, and she found herself nauseated all over again.

Though maybe for a different reason.

They came to a stop in a large room, dust heavy in the air as it swam in the empty space. There was nothing here but an auditorium worth of space, and a ratty couch leaning up against the far wall, positioned like a throne.

There was someone sitting in it, legs crossed, head tipped, eyes watching her with juxtaposing listlessness and curiosity.

"What's this?" he asked. His voice was silky, threaded with care and leveled out to drape over an entire army. It only reached four people.

"We found her wandering outside." P decidedly did not touch her, though he stuck irrationally close to her side. "Her combat skills are admirable."

"I can see that." The man's eyes swept toward X, who was still nursing the various wounds Touka had inflicted upon him. "What were you doing so far from base?"

"We saw her approaching," P explained. "We didn't think much of it until we actually fought her."

"And she won?"

"Clearly," Touka spoke up, "I wouldn't be here if I didn't."

The man looked at her sharply. She knew, of course, how intimidation tactics worked. She was nervous from the start, finding it difficult to focus on anything with his eyes beating her brain into her skull. But she had to overcome that.

There was a child sitting on the ground beside the makeshift throne. They'd been sleeping when Touka had walked in, presumably, but now they were awake and alert, leaning forward curiously.

"Why did you come here?"

"Why not?" Touka folded her arms across her chest. "You've gained some notoriety. Look…" She shuffled her feet, feeling the inexplicable heat of his stare, as though she'd melt on the spot if she didn't move. "I'm not going to spew up some bullshit, like let me fight for you, I'm the best, or whatever. I'm not the best. But I'm not bad either, and I can get shit done."

The man tipped his chin back. The lower half of his face was covered in a shiny red mask. "Humble," he all but cooed.

"Honest," Touka corrected sharply. "Do you think I'm here to play fake knights of the round, trash king? Newsflash, monarchies are dead."

Oh. Shit.

Ha ha, oh my fucking god, I just fucked up, she thought, averting her gaze sharply as a deadly silence stifled her.

A tinkling giggle rang throughout the room, bouncing sharply off the walls and rippling through the air like a heavy stone tossed into a pool. Touka looked to the child sharply, watching them rise to the balls of their feet, rocking onto their toes.

"Trash king," the little child sang. "I like that. Don't you, Tatara?"

"Very funny." Tatara, whose silky voice had been drenched in poison, leaned back. "I'm glad you're amused."

"Well, she is very amusing, no?" The child wore bandages, covering every inch of their flesh in the ribbed, off white strips. A pink frock that appeared to be handstitched and threadbare was draped over their tiny frame, thin and airy. Everything about this child was waiflike and languid. Like a blanket that had been left out on a clothesline for weeks on end, and become weather-beaten and ragged. "Don't be so sore about it. I know you know what I know."

Her heart had seized at the child's words, as if a vague threat had been dipped into them. She watched the waif toe forward, stepping between Touka and Tatara.

"Come here," they called out, lifting their arms, beckoning her toward them.

Touka knew she didn't particularly want to, but there was something eerie about this child that made her feel like she had to. It had been a direct command, something she could not easily ignore. And what had Kaneki said?

Be obedient.

So she cautiously walked forward, her boots clipping the creaky wooden floor. The child was taller than she'd expected.

The child was practically her height. Just a few centimeters shorter. 

It took her face in its bandaged hands, the rough feeling of the stretchy fabric brushing her cheeks shocking her. Touka's eyes were wide, her mouth opening to shout, but the waif dragged their fingers along her lips, rendering her speechless. Fingers were prying open her mouth, the kind of rough, intimate gesture that did not bode well for someone who prioritized in bodily autonomy. But this thing made her feel so weak. Her mind had been washed of all objections, and she was frozen under this spell, feeling farther and farther away. Their small fingers were plucked from Touka's mouth, and pushed the hair from her eye.

"Ayato never told me he had a sister," it said.

Touka was breathless.

Captivated and nauseated.

Ayato-kun. So this thing knew her brother better than the rest, it seemed. Touka even heard something of fondness there. She wondered what it would take to get in this thing's good favors.

What she was willing to do to get there.

But then the waif dragged its fingers from Touka's skin, and the enchantment ended.

Touka inhaled sharply, taking a step back from the child and covering her mouth. The residual tingle of cotton sat on her tongue. It made her skin crawl.

"Ayato," Tatara repeated. His eyes narrowed. "I see."

The waif whirled around on their toes. "Ask what you'd like," it said. "I'm done with her."

"Excellent." Tatara leaned forward. "Tell me your name, little Kirishima."

"Um, I'm actually older," Touka stated weakly.

"That's irrelevant."

"Not to me," she snapped.

"Oooh," the waif exhaled, dropping into a cross-legged position, their pink frock ballooning around them.

"Your first name," Tatara demanded. "Now."

"It's Touka, your majesty," she spat, her eyes narrowed up at him. "Are you the leader here?"

"Mind your mouth, girl. When you are asked questions, you don't respond with questions. Got it?"

"Fine." She folded her arms across her chest. "My name is Touka. Happy?"

He eyed her, and she waited for a fight to initiate. When it didn't, she didn't know if she was relieved or disappointed.

"Why did you come here?"

It was the same question as before. But now it seemed to hold more weight.

Touka sighed. She pushed her dirty hair from her face, glancing about the room sharply.

"I don't know," she admitted.

"That's not a very good answer."

"Maybe not," she told him coolly, "but it's an honest one."

That seemed to satisfy him, which was genuinely shocking. "Where did you come from?" he asked.

"The… twentieth ward." She couldn't lie. She knew she couldn't lie, not about the facts of her life that Ayato would know. She sighed. "I lived there for a while."

The waif had cocked its head curiously.

"A while," Tatara repeated. "Interesting. There is very little conflict in that ward, so I've heard. Why did you leave?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath. Here was the part where the lies came in. She had a few planned out, but she knew it was best to ground her lies in truths.

"I recently killed a dove," she admitted. "It's gotten… messy. There were others involved, and if I can spare them the blame, I will. So I left. It's simple."

"You killed a dove?" Tatara's eyes flashed with interest. "Which one?"

Touka's brow furrowed tightly, because she really had been trying to forget. But the name had stuck out. She'd read it in the paper, read the obituary a hundred times over, her hands shaking as her eyes connected brutalized to Rabbit to late wife to daughter. Inside her head, she saw a young woman being handed a silver ring and an empty apology.

"Mado Kureo." Touka watched his brow arch. "Ring a bell?"

"That one was a nuisance," Tatara admitted. "It's good to be rid of him."

"Yeah, yeah, you're welcome." Touka rolled her eyes. "Does that answer all your questions?"

"Not quite." Tatara's eyes narrowed. "How did you find us?"

"You're not exactly quiet, you know." She frowned deeply. "Someone told me where to go. I don't know how they got that information, but my guess is that they followed one of your men, which is not my problem. Now." She lifted her head high. "Is that it?"

Tatara's eyes raised to somewhere above and beyond her face. She stiffened, as if already knowing the terror that would come after her.

She heard heavy footsteps pound against the squeaky wood behind her. She took a deep breath, and cautiously turned around.

It meant a lot, really. That Ayato froze.

He saw her face, and his melted in utter shock.

She saw it go from anger to alarm to anxiety and then back to anger again in no more than five seconds. It made him look so much younger than she knew he was, as though she had turned back time, and it was still easy and simple, like he was twelve and she was fourteen again. But he wasn't twelve, and he wasn't going to let her tend to his wounds or carry him up the steps. He wasn't going to look at her like she could do anything, because the moment she'd shown a sign of weakness, he'd just assumed that she was capable of nothing.

He exhaled shakily.

"What," he punctuated each individual word like a slap. "Are. You. Doing. Here."

Touka stared at him.

She knew she looked sad. She couldn't fucking help it. She didn't want to wear this emotion so candidly, but it was hard when he was shaking, his fury rolling like waves upon rocks, and she wanted so badly to ask him why. Why was he so fucking angry with her? What had she done wrong? How could she fix it?

Suddenly Ayato was looking around, his neck viciously snapping to and fro. "What the hell?" he snapped, his eyes flicking from Tatara to Eto. "What's going on? She's an outsider— she has to go!" Ayato stepped forward. "I'll do it."

"Hush now," the waif laughed. "You don't get to decide those things, Ayato."

"She's trash!" Ayato jerked his finger at Touka, and she tried not to look hurt despite feeling a crushing amount of sorrow. "All she's done the past few years is be a lousy human sympathizer, going to school, and pretending to be one of them! She's worthless!"

Touka's fists clenched. Okay. Now she was pissed.

"You don't get it," she said coldly, "because you're obsessed with power. Some people don't need it."

"Oh please," Ayato sneered, jerking forward. "I know how weak you are! Anyone who can bear to live alongside that sleaze is weak!"

"Maybe if you went to school," Touka laughed venomously, "you'd understand how stupid you sound. And, by the way, you're fucking stupid."

"More stupid than sitting by, waiting for the humans to notice I'm not one of them?" Ayato seethed. "Ha! How did you even fucking survive this long? Ugh, you almost smell like a human!"

"You don't get it, Ayato," she snapped. "Some people are content with the little things in life. Like living."

"Well I'm not here to fucking settle," he replied in a voice so low that it rumbled beneath the floorboards.

And then he leaped at her.

It was incredible, truly, because he was far faster than she'd ever actually imagined.

Fuck, she thought as he kneed her in the stomach and threw her to the ground. The pain was crippling, her whole body tensing up. She rolled over before he could kick her again, kicking herself to her feet and backpedaling. He was already in front of her, his fist crashing into her shoulder, and she hissed, kicking him away. Her heel clipped his rib, and he buckled, but caught her by the ankle and threw her into the creaky floor.

"Fuck," she rasped aloud, skidding out of the way as he tried to drag her back. She rolled into a crouch, panting a bit. "Ayato, calm down!"

"Go back to Anteiku, you idiot sister!" He tried to kick her again, and she dashed away, swerving behind him and elbowing him in the spine. He whirled around and kicked her in the face. She fell flat on her back, pain blinding her. She didn't even know what was happening now, because that force had sent everything in her into a state of pure numbness. She groaned, rolling onto her side. He's too fast, she thought, he's so much faster than me…

"See? Weak." He snatched her up by her hair, and she cracked open in eye. "Pathetic."

She swung her legs up around his arm and used his body weight to fling him over onto his back. "Ayato," she spat, blood dribbling from her nose, "stop." She then stood, dropping her backpack from her shoulders and relishing in the weightlessness. "You're acting like a baby. Shut up. Grow up."

That struck a nerve.

He leaped to his feet, his eyes flicking black. It wasn't even a gradual process. It was just one moment they were white and the next they were gleaming pits.

"Stay down!" He threw a punch at her, which she dodged. Barely. "You shouldn't even be here! Go back to your gross, cushy little life, and leave me alone!"

"Why?" Touka threw out her arms. "What the fuck, Ayato? What is your goddamn problem?"

"You!" He kicked her again, and she went sailing across the floor. Her jacket was threaded with splinters when she sat up, sniffing miserably. The ache in her head was awful, but she'd been through worse, and this felt more like a sparring match than a real fight. He grabbed her by the front of her shirt and punched her in the face. She took the hit, dizzied by the blow and by the subsequent ringing. And then she kicked him in the jaw.

They both rolled onto the floor. She coughed, he growled, and she watched his kagune gutter into life. It was bigger and bolder and far more beautiful than hers was. She crouched on the ground, watching him dully.

"Leave," he gasped, his face twisted and ugly from his rage.

She was shaking. She wanted to know why, if she was angry or if she was scared, but something wet hit her hand, and she glanced down. Expecting blood, she was sickened to find a teardrop had hit her knuckles.

Gross.

She wiped her eyes furiously.

"I won't," she said, rising slowly to her feet. I won't leave you.

She wished she could understand what was going on inside his head.

His hatred was so palpable. What had she done to deserve this scorn?

So he attacked again, his wings slicing at the air, and she found herself doing a ballet of movements. Her feet barely touched the ground, and they circled each other. His kagune swept, and she danced out of the way, breathless and sweaty and blood and beyond exhausted. She was weak. She knew why.

Yoriko. Touka had been eating human food for awhile before leaving. It had finally caught up to her.

Damn.

She was tackled, pinned onto her back. Ayato's black eyes were piercing her brain.

"Go home," he hissed.

She stared at him with wide eyes, her heart palpitating. Tatara and the eerie child were watching.

Impress them.

She twisted her body and craned her neck, her teeth closing and tearing a chunk of skin out of his exposed shoulder. He screamed, and the sound was echoing in her ears as she struggled to swallow the shredded skin. It tasted bland. She forced it down her throat, and head-butted him.

When she was free, she skidded away, her feet gliding across the floor. Her kagune tore from her shoulder and knocked him off his feet.

Blood dribbled down her chin, down her nose, and she kicked him in the face. She felt rejuvenated. Her aching subsided.

He got back up, albeit shakily, and Touka realized the entire room was bathed in the glow of them. Red and starving.

Before he could leap at her again, Tatara stepped between them, holding out his hands to separate them.

"That's enough," he said. "Ayato, this is not your choice. Touka stays."

Ayato's whole body seemed to explode in fury. "That's bullshit!" he roared. "She can't—!"

"She can, and she will. Go cool down. Now."

Ayato's eyes widened. Perhaps it had been a long while since he'd felt the sting of defeat.

His kagune dissipated, leaving him looking small and hollow.

When he spun on his heel, he shook the whole room with his impudent stomping.

Touka coughed, blood and spittle splashing from her lips. She wiped her mouth and grimaced.

"Let me show you the bathroom," the waif suggested, taking Touka by the bloody hand. It scooped up her bag as it went. "Everything is communal. You don't mind, of course."

Touka didn't like the way this… person… seemed to assume and project things onto her.

"Thanks…" Touka found herself in a makeshift bath house. It was early, so there was no one in there. Water from a sink filled up a tub. The tub was grimy, and it reminded her of something she'd seen in a period piece ages ago. It had been white porcelain once, but now it looked ill from how gray it had become.

The waif stood and watched as Touka set her bag down and tested the water. It was lukewarm on the side of cold. She'd deal with it.

"Um…" Touka glanced back at the person. "Who are you?"

It giggled.

"Eto," it said smoothly. Dawn light had filtered in through the partially boarded, foggy windows. It made the dust in this bathroom skitter and dance, and the rusty metal glint like it was something so much newer than it truly was. Touka could see Eto smiling through the bandages. "That was quite the interesting reunion. Human sympathizer."

Touka stiffened. "He's angry," she said quietly, licking her bloody lips. "He doesn't get it. I just wanted a normal life."

"You're not normal, Touka."

"I know that!" She shot Eto a fierce glare. "I don't need anyone to remind me I'm a ghoul. Especially not him."

"Maybe," Eto suggested, dragging a bandaged finger over a dusty sink, "he thinks you abandoned him."

"What?"

The strange little waif shrugged. Their odd, pitted eyes seemed to go on forever. "He's bitter," Eto explained. "You chose humans over him."

"I didn't choose anything over him," she scoffed. "I just decided that maybe staying in one place would be nice."

"But you didn't consider how he felt," Eto sang.

"Well—!" Touka flushed. She didn't know what to say. "He didn't give me a chance! I can't understand him."

"Careful, Touka," Eto warned in a sing-song little voice. "Don't show everyone that you are so heartless."

"What…?" Touka blinked, trying to process these words, but before she could really understand it, Eto was gone.

She shuddered. So creepy.

She peeled her clothes off and stuffed them into her bag, lowering herself into the tub. She washed her hair and face first, feeling that sweat and blood was clinging everywhere. The water was pink in the bright shafts of sunlight that glowed upon her. She pulled her knees up to her chest, biting her tongue and watching droplets ripple the pinkish bath. Her tears had rolled down her nose, dripping from its tip.

Strong. She had to be strong. For Ayato. For Anteiku.

This was something she'd never wanted. She felt like everything in her was collapsing in on itself. She was a star, and soon she would be a supernova, and soon she would be a black hole.

She sunk deeper into the water into the tips of her hair looked like swirls of ink on the surface.

She was so tired.

Light glittered on the surface of the water. The beads on her skin glinted. Everything seemed so caught in the moment that it was almost beautiful in a faint, faded way.

She got dressed hastily when she was done, draining the bath and shaking her hair out. She took her bag up a stairwell, moving sluggishly as every step creaked, sheetrock crunching underfoot, metal railings screeching. She found a nicely sized windowsill, dropping her bag onto it, and then promptly climbed up on the ledge. She watched the sun as she laid down, white light flitting along the wooded area surrounding the building. Her eyelids felt so heavy. She thumbed the dirty glass, drawing a bunny in the filth.

When she nodded off, she didn't even notice her brother plopping down on the stairs below, his back against the rickety rail, his eyes averted warningly.

When he hadn't gotten a call from Touka immediately, he began to worry.

She could be dead. Or they could have tortured her, like they'd tortured him. Yamori could have gotten to her. He had not forgotten the terror of being under that man's cruel, corkscrew thumb.

But Ayato wouldn't allow that. Kaneki knew that at the very least Ayato cared about Touka. He had a shitty way of showing it, but it was true.

Kaneki thought it might be the saddest thing in the world that two people could love each other so much, and actively hurt one another so thoroughly.

Days passed. Nearly a week. Kaneki went with Amon and Mutsuki to a few different places. Kaneki had gotten a call that his mask was done, and that he could pick it up soon. One day they went to another academy, which Mutsuki politely declined to attend. He'd go to the office instead.

The seventh junior academy was bigger and more atmospheric than the second. It actually radiated with some joy, kids bouncing from place to place, chatting eagerly. There weren't many who looked despondent or sad. Amon went to the registrar himself to ask about the kids, how they were, if there had been any strange activity. He wouldn't ask if anyone had gone missing, but he'd find a way to get to the point. Kaneki trusted that.

While he waited, Kaneki walked through the hall, swinging his briefcase and staring at Touka's cellphone. She'd call. She would. He knew she would.

Trust. He had to remember that it was okay to trust people. She was the strongest person he knew.

He had to accept that sheltering people was not the same as protecting them.

It was scary. Change was scary.

He stopped in the middle of the hall, staring vacantly at a girl who had decided to sleep on one of the stone benches in the courtyard. He could hear her snoring from here. He wondered what she was doing. Her hair was brown and fluffy, tied in to fat ponytails at her ears that hung over the side of the bench. Kaneki decided to approach her, because other kids were pointing and snickering, and that was uncomfortable.

He was stopped suddenly by a young man. His hair was shockingly yellow, his eyes tired and electric. He had a distinct smile, the kind of grin of someone who had really needed braces as a child but couldn't afford it.

"Yo!" He pointed at Kaneki's face. "You're an investigator!"

"Hi," Kaneki gasped, taking a step back. "Hi. Yes. I am."

This boy was someone Kaneki might have been nervous around when he'd been younger.

"That's amazing!" The boy peered at Kaneki's face. "You look so young! Hey, how old are you?"

"I'm nineteen." Kaneki had forgotten that he was actually still eighteen, but whatever. Who cared?

"Holy shit!" The boy's hands flew into the air. "That's amazing! Fuckin'… ah!" He bounced up and down excitedly. "Tell me how you did it!"

"Did… what?"

"Became an investigator so young! How old were you when you graduated the academy?"

"I didn't go to the academy," Kaneki said bemusedly.

The boy's jaw dropped.

"Ho-ly fuck!" He snatched Kaneki by both shoulders. "Tell me how you did it, man. I gotta know."

"Um…"

"Stop manhandling the investigator, Shirazu."

Shirazu's face fell at the sound of another boy's voice. Unlike Shirazu, who had a raspy drawl, likely the result of smoking, this voice was smooth and collected. It was the sort of clipped tone that always sounded like it was persuading you to do something you'd rather not do.

Kaneki turned to see a boy wearing a neatly presented school uniform. His tie was knotted tightly, his shirt ironed and pressed, his sweater vest new and recently washed. Kaneki glanced between the boys. There was a clear difference between them that Kaneki personally knew well.

One boy had a caring parent at home. The other was on his own.

Shirazu's shirt was threadbare, second hand, and cheap to begin with. He'd picked it up at a thrift store. Kaneki knew thrift stores pretty well. They were golden when you were struggling to figure out how to pay rent. Literally. No one had taught him how to do that. He had to teach himself how to be an adult.

No wonder he was so fucked up.

"Ha ha… didn't hear you sneak up, Urie." The way Shirazu said the other boy's name made it sound like they didn't know each other that well. He seemed nervous. "It's just that he's only nineteen and a full time investigator! Ain't that something else?"

"It happens." Urie glanced at Kaneki briskly, as though he was trying to figure out exactly how Shirazu's words were true. "The CCG will often make special exemptions for investigators with incredible skill. Like Arima."

It had taken everything in Kaneki not to flinch.

Shirazu didn't really look like he knew what Urie was talking about, but he nodded firmly. "I just want to know how he did it though," he gasped. "Don't you?"

Urie looked pensive, his brow furrowing as he peered at Kaneki. He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Ah…" He cracked a sheepish smile. "No, I don't. I'll just go through the academy as planned. Any other way would be cheating, I feel like."

"You're such a goody goody," Shirazu snorted.

"I'm just practical." Urie rolled his eyes. "Maybe you should focus more on your studies and stop looking for an easy way around it, Shirazu."

Shirazu's jaw tightened, and he hunched. He seemed like Urie's words had struck him somehow. Then he smiled broadly. "Just trying to make the most of my time, man," he said.

"Well, let me know how that works out." Urie turned to Kaneki and bowed his head respectfully. "Excuse me, Mr…?"

"Kaneki."

"Mr. Kaneki, then. I have to go." Urie brushed past them, and then paused, glancing into the courtyard. He sighed softly. "Is that girl sleeping again?"

"You know her?" Kaneki glanced into the open courtyard. It was chilly outside, and it seemed impractical to sleep out there.

"Not really." Urie frowned deeply. He didn't look like he actually wanted to bother checking on the girl. "Shirazu, go tell her she can't sleep there."

"Why don't you do it?"

"I'm already late." Urie shrugged. "Besides, people like you." He turned away. "It was nice meeting you, Mr. Kaneki."

"Yeah." Kaneki watched his back as he crossed into a separate building. "Same."

"Ugh…" Shirazu looked puzzled. "I don't get that guy at all."

"He seemed nice enough."

"Sure, he's nice." Shirazu's brow furrowed. "But he doesn't like getting close to like, anyone. It's hard to know him."

"Ah." Kaneki knew how that was.

"Anyway, I can wake Yonebayashi." Shirazu glanced at the girl. "She's always doing this. I don't know what she shows up for, honestly."

"Is she okay?" Kaneki asked worriedly.

"Who knows?" Shirazu grimaced. "Nobody really talks to her because all she does is sleep and skip activities."

"Well…" Kaneki watched the girl lounge on the bench, and he sighed. "I hope she's okay…"

"She's fine," Shirazu assured him. "Everyone knows Yonebayashi sleeps more than she breathes. It's fine."

Kaneki opened his mouth to object, but suddenly a phone began to ring.

"Ah!" Kaneki pulled Touka's phone from his pocket staring at the screen. The number was blocked from view.

"Cute bunny," Shirazu pointed out, grinning broadly.

Kaneki nodded fiercely, and he turned away. "Sorry, I have to take this!" He was already walking briskly away. "Hello?"

"You really did keep my phone, huh? Creep." Touka sounded tired and bored. "Do you want to know some shit, or not?"

"I'm just glad to hear your voice!" Kaneki gasped. "Are you okay? Everything is okay?"

"Peachy." She was clearly being sarcastic. That was fine. He was used to it. "My brother hates me, but that's nothing new. I haven't killed anyone yet, but that'll probably change since I refuse to eat the meat they're giving me."

Meat. He remembered. He remembered digging his hands into a cadaver and ripping it apart. It had been nauseating.

Once.

Now it didn't seem like such a daunting task.

"Um, can I ask why?"

"They don't feed their people here equally." Touka sounded sharp. Bitter. Like a cold winter night. "I don't need to take their food when I can hunt for myself. I'll give whatever they give me to the weaker ghouls."

"That's really charitable of you."

"It's just me being decent, okay?" She exhaled sharply. "Anyway, I'm on my own right now. They finally let me go out, though I'm sure someone's tailing me."

"Do you want to meet up?"

"Eh, sounds risky. I'm gonna write the info down in drop it off somewhere. Give me a place."

A place…

What was a good place to hide things?

He had to think.

"There's a park," he said. "Near where I used to live. It's a little outside this ward though."

"Give me the address."

And that was that.

As Kaneki walked back to the registrar, Amon walked out. He was speaking on the phone heatedly, his brow furrowed. He met Kaneki's eye, and he turned away sharply.

"I get that," he snapped, "but you're not understanding me. There is a logical reason why Mutsuki wouldn't be answering his phone."

"What?" Kaneki asked sharply.

Amon held up a finger to hush him. "No, I get it— no, I don't want to talk to Washuu Matsuri. I don't know where Mutsuki is, and I don't know what's happening, so please—" Amon winced, and he glanced at his phone. He sighed and hung up. "Come on, Kaneki, we have to go."

"What happened to Mutsuki?" Kaneki gasped, his stomach lurching in horror.

"I have no idea." Amon led him forward through the front door and into the bitter November air. "Apparently he didn't show up at the office, and he was supposed to have a doctor's appointment today. On top of that, Washuu Matsuri personally is trying to get ahold of him, and nothing is working."

"I don't like this," Kaneki whispered.

"Me either." They got into the car, and glanced at each other. "We should check your apartment first."

"Okay."

As they drove, Kaneki couldn't help but think about all the possible scenarios. The stories that had been told at the second junior academy were getting to his head, but he didn't want to find Mutsuki in the bathroom, hurt or worse. He didn't want to see such a thing come to fruition.

Kaneki all but ran up his apartment steps, rushing to his door and finding it unlocked. He didn't like that. He pushed the door open cautiously, glancing back at Amon. The apartment looked relatively the same as when he'd left, except for one thing.

One of the files he'd stolen, which he'd tucked away in a drawer in the kitchenette, was lying open on the table. Beside it, Mutsuki's cellphone.

"Oh shit," Kaneki said, clapping his forehead in disbelief. "Mutsuki's file."

"Kaneki…" Amon pinched the bridge of his nose. "Did you… tell Mutsuki that you took his file?"

Kaneki grimaced.

Amon inhaled sharply, and he smacked Kaneki upside the head.

"Ah…" Kaneki groaned. "This is bad. I didn't even read it, I just… I wanted to have it. I felt bad."

"I shouldn't have let you keep it in the first place," Amon muttered, shaking his head. "This is my fault."

"We don't even know that he's not here," Kaneki said weakly, walking over to the file. "I mean… it can't be that bad…"

He knew it was that bad before he even looked at it.

The first thing he saw was a picture of a younger Mutsuki, dead eyed and languid, mauve circles biting into the dark skin beneath his eyes. His bio listed the basics. His hair color, black. His eye color, black. His race, mixed. His sex, female.

Ah.

Kaneki stopped to stare at the word for a little longer than he should have.

He swallowed thickly, and decidedly moved on.

Overthinking this would be a mistake.

There was a medical report. First and foremost. Kaneki found himself sinking to his knees. It was from a hospital. It listed Mutsuki's injuries, a broken arm, lacerations on his stomach. It referred to him with traditionally feminine pronouns, though, which threw Kaneki for a loop. He had to reread it a few times. The report concluded that Mutsuki Tooru was in stable condition. The only Mutsuki to be stabilized and survive. Apparently, as Kaneki read it, Mutsuki had had a brother who had been admitted to the same hospital with more grievous wounds. The brother had died.

There was another report dated not long after the hospital report. This one was from a psychiatric facility. Kaneki felt uncomfortable reading this. He was invading Mutsuki's privacy. He'd tucked this file away with the intention of reading it on a later date— he hadn't intentionally breached Mutsuki's trust, but he knew what this was now, and he couldn't stop. This report, like the last, referred to Mutsuki as a she. Patient shows signs of PTSD, insomnia, depression, anxiety disorder, suicidal thoughts, dissociation. Kaneki didn't think they'd all come at once, though, because the report seemed scattered. It seemed like the PTSD, depression, and suicidal thoughts were a primarily an early thing, while the insomnia, anxiety, and dissociation were persistent.

Washuu Yoshitoki had said that he'd had the only copy of this file.

Unless Yoshitoki had a different file.

In that case, Kaneki figured he ought to hand this over.

But he couldn't help but keep going.

Mutsuki had clearly tried very hard to get out of his situation. There were notes from the doctor that he (read she) was steadily improving. Taking his required medication, never acting out. He shouldn't have been in the facility for as long as he had been, but he'd had nowhere else to go.

Kaneki assumed that the CCG had taken him from the facility. There was no other explanation.

There were a few other medical reports. A note about Mutsuki's insistence to be referred to with masculine pronouns. Some write ups from a nurse, primarily for bloody noses. Mutsuki had anemia, which made these occasions worse.

The final report was dated months ago, detailing Mutsuki being rushed to the hospital after being found severely injured, with deep lacerations moving erratically from his navel up his abdomen. The nature of the wounds were of "unknown origin" but the doctors were adamant that he could not have inflicted them himself. Additionally, they had been irritated, and older than they'd appeared.

Kaneki was shaking by the end of this report, trying to piece together what it all meant.

"He ran away," he whispered.

"How do you know for sure?" Amon asked.

"I don't." Kaneki tentatively closed the file. He closed his eyes. "I just have a feeling. Like I betrayed him, and I didn't even know it."

Chapter Text

Sons were made to give their fathers grief.

Oh, it was the simple things in life that made it worth living. Like the rushing amalgamation of exhilaration, pride, and delight when you walk through the front door after a long day at work, and your son rushes toward you on stubby legs, arms outstretched. The first steps, the first words, and then the first fight, and then the first utterance of, "I hate you."

And then the first revelation that sons were not made to love their fathers as fathers loved their sons.

Washuu Yoshitoki thumbed through the procedural file containing a detailed account of all of Mutsuki Tooru's medical records, school records, personal achievements, and journals kept while in therapy. He had just gotten the call. Amon had admitted that he did not want to report this, that Kaneki had begged him not to, that Kaneki had assured him that he would fix this. But Amon was worried. And Yoshitoki supposed that was reasonable.

He was worried too.

This boy was self-destructive by design.

A soft ball of yarn made to unravel.

Yoshitoki did not know why he'd approved of his quinx surgery. He'd seen the folder, read it cover to cover half a dozen times, and there was so much that didn't bode well. He'd closed the folder for the first time, and he had thought to himself, If I let this poor child do this, I will be throwing him to the wolves.

And he had.

Regret was a familiar feeling. A sting that persisted and turned into a desperate ache.

You don't get to take back the mistakes you make. And Yoshitoki was drowning in mistakes.

The doctors had been rather unkind about Mutsuki's gender identity. They'd assumed it was just another part of his psychosis. Yoshitoki thought himself to be fairly liberal and modern, at least in the eyes of an old, traditional family like the Washuus. He didn't want Mutsuki to feel ostracized, and though he could not empathize, he sympathized. It was unfair that the doctors had dismissed his desire to live as a boy. Perhaps the situation would have been fairly different if Mutsuki had been treated with kindness from the very start.

I can't reconcile this feeling that I'm not meant to be here, wearing this dress, wearing this body. I don't want to bother anyone about it. It's not a new development. I feel like I've felt this way since I was aware the world was round and the sky was blue. But it only gets worse and worse, and I try— scratches, rapid and hasty, executed the next few words, which Yoshitoki could barely make out. Beneath the frantic slashes of Mutsuki's pen, he'd written, to be normal, I want to be normal, I don't know how to be normal. But perhaps Mutsuki had realized how frantic and desperate that had sounded. Mutsuki Tooru was smart, and he had clearly wanted to get out of the place he'd been in. So he'd scribbled out his desperation, and continued steadily. I have tried to be something I am not for my whole life. And I know it makes no sense for me to want to be a man, because I am weak, and I am told over and over and over again that I am too gentle, and too soft, and too feminine, and maybe that's true. I know my heart isn't strong. I know my body is fragile. I know. But I try. And I'll keep trying. And I won't stop trying. Don't make me stop trying.

He'd known that the journal was to be examined. So he'd begged.

Let the boy be himself, or condemn him to a life of perpetual sadness.

It was an easy choice, and yet…

The file that Kaneki Ken had stolen had been irrelevant. So Yoshitoki had thought. Those medical records had been there because the file had mostly been an incident report about the issues surrounding the attack on Mutsuki Tooru that had happened several months prior. In order to open the investigation, some of the more prominent medical reports in Mutsuki's file had been photocopied. They were trying to find a way to pin the attack on Mutsuki himself.

Yes, yes, Mutsuki Tooru was immeasurably self-destructive, but his contentment with death only went as far as his need to please others.

Yoshitoki had a theory that if he ordered the boy to survive against all odds, then he would do it gladly.

But no one had ordered him to live, so Yoshitoki was mildly concerned about what he was doing, where he'd gone, and what the result of this uncomfortable situation would be.

A knock at his door was enough to prompt Yoshitoki to close the file and push it aside.

"Come in, Matsuri."

His son watched him from the doorway. He'd opened the door before knocking, and then knocked to get Yoshitoki's attention, impudent as ever. This was nothing new. There was nothing new about Matsuri. He was the same as he'd been when he had left for Germany. They had not said goodbye. Yoshitoki had gone to the airport, of course. He wasn't a total disgrace of a father. But while Yoshitoki had stood, meeting the eye of his son as he'd handed over his boarding pass, he sensed the animosity in the air.

What could Yoshitoki do to undo the hatred coiled within Matsuri's heart?

"You wanted something."

Matsuri had pride. That was Yoshitoki's fault. He had been too present in Matsuri's life, and there was a curse to being a Washuu that was innately tied to touch. Yoshitoki had seen Matsuri's small, squalling face, and fallen in love. And that had been a mistake.

Oh, regret. What a familiar friend.

To put it simply, Yoshitoki had loved Matsuri too much, and then maybe too little, and then maybe not at all. It was all a blur. Your first son will do that. You love and love and love until there is no love left for something you don't remember creating. He'd plucked Matsuri from a life of obscurity, giving him a name, a life, a legacy. His father had warned him.

To put a name to your mistake was to hand it a sword and kneel before it with your neck extended.

"Please," Yoshitoki said, smiling softly. "Sit down."

Matsuri looked older than he was. Had Yoshitoki done that? He must have been responsible for the lines creasing his face. The bags beneath his eyes. He was so gray and joyless.

He had not always been this way.

But then, he had not always had the name Washuu.

Yoshitoki did not know how to properly bear the two indisputable facts that had come out of his parenting experience.

The child could only be happy if, one, he was not a Washuu.

Because there was something in a name, in this name, that made children turn into dead eyed husks. Yoshitoki had been sure that his love and this name could coexist, that it would be enough, but time had proven him wrong, and there was no happiness in sight for a boy who saw the throne of the CCG in his future.

And two, if Yoshitoki remained uninvolved with the details of his life and future.

His love, his undying, uncompromising love, could not stretch the boundaries of the characters, 吉時, that came together to bind him and all his spawn to a tradition that was bathed in blood. And maybe that was for the best. A child can decide for himself if he wants the burden of being adored. If he's comfortable with being ignored. Yoshitoki didn't know how he'd sullied it all so badly, but he knew it was his own fault. Perhaps he'd loved too much and given too little to show for it. For all parties involved.

Simply put? He'd fucked up once. He prayed he wouldn't do it again, but he was not so kind, and ambition was a deadly device.

Maybe he even wished for it.

Like a hunter waiting, watching, wanting for the stag he'd been stalking to get in his sight, to line up with his scope. There was admiration, adoration for the prey that could not be rivaled. And maybe this was the same. Maybe it would be a repeat of the same old mistake, or maybe something bigger and brighter than he could have ever possibly conceived.

But that was just the wishful thinking of an old man who was sad with how things had turned out.

Matsuri sat begrudgingly, his tired eyes flickering warily over Yoshitoki's face. It was like he already knew, which was absolutely likely. Yoshitoki would make no secret out of this. He'd made enough secrets already.

"You seem tired," Yoshitoki observed.

"Just say what you want to say," Matsuri said, propping his elbow up and resting his cheek against his fist. He looked at Yoshitoki like any Washuu would. Disinterest upon disinterest upon disinterest. Like he could be anywhere in the world, and it would be a more promising venture than sitting here in this room. "I know you're not happy. So enlighten me on my latest and greatest mistake."

Sometimes he sounded so familiar.

Was that his own voice echoing back at him?

"You know why you're here, Matsuri."

And his son's eyes moved, sliding dully to the file beneath Yoshitoki's hand. He had no real reaction, which suggested he truly had known from the very start.

"So you haven't found him." Matsuri leaned back into his chair and crossed his legs. "Well, this is surprising. Tell me, what will you do if he shows up dead? He was an expensive pet project."

"Mutsuki is not a pet. You can't just steal him away and manipulate him, and expect there to not be consequences."

"Are there consequences for keeping surveillance on a known ghoul?" Matsuri's brow raised. "Interesting."

"You know what I mean." Yoshitoki sighed, and he shook his head. "Don't do this. Just tell me what you were trying to accomplish by ordering Mutsuki around like this."

"You bring a ghoul into the CCG," Matsuri said in his low, even tone, "and you expect me to explain myself? You should appreciate the irony."

"Accepting Kaneki has nothing to do with your treatment of Mutsuki." Yoshitoki found himself reclining as well, his eye narrowed. "Kaneki did not choose to be this way, nor can you blame him for coming to us for help."

"No," Matsuri said coolly, "but I can blame you for creating abominations. Might I say, I didn't think playing god was your style?" He shrugged. "I can't say I'm surprised, though."

"Oh, please," Yoshitoki laughed, his eyes twinkling, "save your breath for someone who will listen to your accusations. As though you are so moral and just. I make my bad decisions, Matsuri, but at least I stick with them. It's time you learned how to take responsibility over your own failures."

"What failures?"

He sounded so haughty.

Now. This was exactly the kind of monster that pride created.

Yoshitoki had done this with a flick of his wrist and a swish of a pen.

With a tiny hand and butterfly kisses.

There had been a short time when Matsuri had craved Yoshitoki's touch.

And Yoshitoki had ignored him.

The worst part was, he'd always thought he was a good father until he'd been told off.

"You can't even see what's in front of you half the time! Do you even see me? No, don't answer! You can't answer honestly, you're just blinded by your fucking pride! Don't speak! Do you ever hear yourself? Do you hear the way you talk to us? I don't know what you want from me, but I know I sure as hell can't give it to you. And even if I could, I don't want to, so just… go. Okay? Let me go. I don't want this. I don't want you."

Sons were made to give their fathers grief.

That was a certainty of life.

"No one ordered you to return to Japan, Matsuri."

"No." Matsuri offered a shrug. "But I'm here, and I'm not going back. Does that make you angry?"

"I'm not angry with you."

"You have an interesting way of showing it." Matsuri stood. "I don't trust Kaneki Ken. He's a ghoul, and Mutsuki Tooru isn't much better. I think they're conspiring."

"Stay away from them, Matsuri." Yoshitoki smiled at his son wanly. "This is not your business. It's mine. They are my responsibility, and their errors are my problem. Whatever you think about them, keep it to yourself and walk away."

"I won't," Matsuri said, "if you're putting our legacy on the line."

"I have done my part to preserve this legacy," Yoshitoki laughed, pushing his chair back. "It's your job to prove that you deserve to be a part of it."

Matsuri's jaw clenched, a muscle jumping in his rage. Yes, that had struck a chord. And of course Yoshitoki felt guilty for that. This was not his intention, to hurt his son with cheap blows. Yoshitoki did not bring up the legitimization often, but when he did, it was because he was overcome by his own volatile range of emotions. Matsuri was too haughty.

Too haughty.

Too haughty.

And when a naughty son was too haughty, the best way to humble him was to beat the pride out of him.

One blow to the ego at a time.

"Some of us are not born lucky, I guess," Matsuri hissed, his composure slipping.

Careful, Yoshitoki thought tiredly. This is not a fight you will win, Matsuri.

"Do not pin your own inadequacies on someone else," Yoshitoki said instead. "You are the only person who can measure your worth."

Matsuri all but leapt out of his chair. He was wiry, his limbs long and bony. He had the proportions of a skeletal creature, something out of a child's nightmare. There was nothing soft about him. And perhaps that was what made him unappealing.

"I'd say go sing your parables to the favorable son, but we both know the only one who will be feeling sorry is you." Matsuri's fingers were spindly as they dug into the back of the chair. "I'm curious. What was it like to finally have all of your hard work thrown back into your face?"

Yoshitoki had not wanted the conversation to swerve this way, but he supposed he deserved it.

"Painful," he told Matsuri with a smile.

That seemed to catch him. Matsuri, with his sharpened features, his personality graying as hair might on an old man. He was caught in the idea that his invulnerable father might be hurting because of something his son had said, had done, had refused to do.

And then, Matsuri raised his chin with utmost pride.

"Good to hear he was good for something," he said. His voice was clipped, at attention, drained of emotion.

And then he turned around and left.

And Yoshitoki had nothing but echoes of his mistakes ringing in his head.

He picked up his phone. His fingers hovered over the numbers. They began to shake.

"The best thing you ever gave me was space."

Yoshitoki sighed, and he set the phone gingerly back onto its hook.

Days went by so listlessly. She felt like she should be doing something more than what she actually was accomplishing, and that made her impatient. Angry. Plus, there were so many more ghouls than she'd ever actually imagined here. At first some of them had tried to intimidate her, until one of the Bin Brothers had called her Kirishima. Apparently Ayato's reputation was something mad to behold.

The first person to catch her giving her rations away had been, wait for it, fucking Yamori.

What a fucking creep.

She'd literally just kicked the packet into a room, watching them watch her with something akin to fear and adoration. It freaked her out, honestly. And the next thing she knew, her arm was being yanked back, and she was dangling. Her feet scraped the floor, and her breath was gone from her as she kicked wildly, trying to figure out how she'd gotten into this position.

"What the fuck?" she gasped.

"Too good for our food, little Kirishima?" Yamori purred into her ear. She kicked off his chest, but it wasn't enough to rip her arm out of his grasp. He was way stronger than she'd expected.

Everyone here called her chibi, or like, Touka-chan, or like, god forbid both. She didn't get it. She wasn't that small. Ayato was smaller than her, and younger, and she was clearly capable, so why were they infantilizing her? It was creepy. This whole fucking place was creepy.

"Let me go and talk to me like a real fucking person, asshole," she sneered, feeling weak and small as she half dangled, half kicked the ever loving shit out of the air.

"You were given perfectly good meat."

She twisted her neck and chomped down on his hand. His skin was cold and difficult to tear, like it was covered in scales. It tasted foul. The meat was thin and grisly, and she'd gotten a chunk of his vein. She swallowed it sharply as she was flung away, her feet skidding across the dusty wood, and she lifted herself up easily.

"I don't need anyone to gather my food for me," she spat, gingerly wiping her lips of the blood with her thumb. "I'm perfectly capable of getting my own meat. Other ghouls here aren't. If you want to build a fucking army, don't feed your soldiers scraps."

Yamori was staring at his hand, watching a rivulet of blood slide down to his wrist thoughtfully. He glanced back at her, and he smirked. "Now you're just jumping to rash conclusions." He licked his hand, and she grimaced.

"Well, get used to it. Also, leave me alone." She tried to get past him, but he blocked her path.

"You're weak," Yamori decided, his eyes glinting as he watched her. "You and your brother are on two completely different spectrums— it'd be unfair to compare you to him."

"Looks like you're having no trouble at all." Touka folded her arms across her chest. Acting tough was all well and good, but getting away from this guy was top priority. "Now seriously. Bye."

As she tried to round Yamori again, she found herself once more cut off. She tried to keep her anger in check, because she knew this was a futile task. Avoiding Yamori had seemed to be a fool's errand. All she'd done for the past few days was skulk around, throw her food away, and make sure she didn't run into any of the higher ups in this shitty organization.

Suddenly she was being dragged back by the hood of her jacket, her shoulder kissing the wall as she stumbled from the force. She managed to regain her balance, and she shot a fierce glare at her assailant.

Lo and behold. It was her goddamn brother.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Ayato's voice was like a knife the way it slashed upon the air and twisted her insides. She didn't know who he was talking to, but she felt like she had to fight him.

"I'm just having a conversation." Yamori didn't even bother to make the lie believable, like he didn't care if he pissed off Ayato. Maybe he even intended to.

"You don't think I can't tell when you've got your creep factor on, Yamori?" Ayato's narrowed eyes were alight with his rage, and Touka found herself pressing her back to the wall and holding her breath. The tension in the air was undeniable, a palpable screen that had fallen upon them and was too heavy to lift. She wanted to leave, to flee fast before the blood started to fly, but she couldn't move. "You should be smarter than that."

"It's cute," Yamori chuckled, "that you're getting so defensive. You're the one who said you didn't care what happens to her. But you've always been a compulsive liar."

Ayato bristled like a cat that had been spooked. His breath came out in short huffs, his shoulders hunching up to his ears, and he jerked a finger into Yamori's face.

"I take it back!" he snarled. "I still don't care, but I sure as fuck don't want you to take that as an invitation! Keep your nasty hands to yourself, Yamori."

Much to Touka's surprise, he snatched her wrist as he whirled around and stalked off, dragging her along with him. His grip was tight and his hands were cold and his fingers were bony. She couldn't remember the last time he'd held onto her like this. She watched his back, his bony shoulders still hunched, and she remembered him as a child, leading her through the shadowy arch of trees.

The illusion broke when he threw her into a wall and stomped down a hallway.

Touka was seized by her own anxiety, that she'd done something wrong in caring for Ayato when they'd been younger. She closed her eyes, propping herself against the wall and taking deep breaths. She was fine. This was fine.

And then she heard his thundering footsteps return.

He'd changed his mind.

"Idiot!" He grabbed her shoulders and head-butted her. Her shout was small and clipped, dying fast in her throat as her vision swam. He continued to dig his nails into her shoulders, his twisted face a blur before her eyes. "You pretend like you've got balls, but you ain't hot shit, sis. You're pathetic and weak and Yamori knows that! He's gonna keep trying to get at you if you don't step up or keep quiet."

"I can handle it," Touka exhaled.

"No!" Ayato snapped, shoving her back into the wall. "You can't! God! Idiot! Moron! Stupid, stupid, stupid!" The different inflections he put onto the word baka were honestly almost comedic, to the point where she had to hide a smirk with a curtain of hair. "You shouldn't have even come. You're not made for this kind of place."

"What is that supposed to mean?" She shoved him back. Hard. She watched him stumble backwards, trip over his own feet, and collapse against the opposite wall. His face grew bright red from rage and shame. "You think you're tough shit, huh? Because you decided to keep being a street rat beggar boy until some asshole in a red cape dusted you off and made you into a glorified guard dog? Don't forget who taught you how to fight, you little shit. You don't get to gripe at me about how weak I am— at least I know how to read!"

"Bitch," Ayato rasped, as though she'd physically assaulted him instead of laying down the indisputable truth. "What's a bunch of silly characters gonna do for you when Yamori rips you apart? You are weak and you shouldn't have come, because you can't do this! You're just like dad!"

"Excuse me?" Her fists clenched at her sides. "Say that again. Because you said it like it was a bad thing!"

"Holy shit! Do you honestly still love that piece of shit after what he put us through?" Ayato's face was really red, his whole body on the defensive, locked and shrinking despite the ever booming quality of his voice. He sounded like he wanted to fight and looked like he wanted to cry. "News flash, he left us! He abandoned us!"

Touka didn't want to say what she was thinking.

He would never have left us willingly, stupid brother.

It was something you accepted when you got older. That the thing you were scared of when you were small was a better truth than the excuses you made to cover up the pain.

"Whatever happened," Touka sighed, rubbing her face tiredly, "was a long time ago. We don't know why it happened. We just know that it did."

"You even sound like him!" Ayato was coiled with fury. His teeth were bared, his eyes fiery. "You two are so soft. I don't care what happened! The only thing that matters is that he's gone, and we were left with a mess. Don't you resent him at all?"

"No, Ayato, I don't." She watched him, the feral way he turned his head, his neck all but snapping to glower at her. He was not made to be gentle or kind. Neither was she. And perhaps that was the hardest part, because she wanted to love and be loved, but everything and everyone seemed to get caught in her spiny thorns, hurting themselves with every inch closer they moved. They were made to destroy everything that they cared for and cared for them.

"I hate you," he whispered. "I hate you so much."

"I know you do." She pushed off the wall and brushed past him. "You can hate me all you want. Hate me until I die. But that won't change anything. I'll still be here. And you will still be unhappy."

And then she marched off.

She hadn't talked to him since then.

The day she went out to go find something to eat— an action that had taken a meeting with Tatara himself to become reality— she was told she needed to return by night fall to go on a mission. She admitted she didn't have a mask yet, so she knew she'd have to go to Hysy to get it.

Kaneki picked up when she called. Part of her wanted to see him, because she felt so lost here, like she was in a crowded room and her thoughts were being drowned out by the noise. At least she'd have someone to speak to. She went to a library and checked out her school's website. They were looking for her. Her school ID photo was plastered on the homepage. She stared at her own face, observing the contours of her cheeks, the way shadows gathered in her eyes and light drained her complexion. She stared, and she lashed out. She unplugged the computer and marched out of the library.

Somehow or another she ended up in Hysy. She was taking trains all over the city today, watching it roll by with a film over her eyes. Aogiri made her feel dirty. She felt like there was scum on her skin, and no matter how long she soaked in that dingy bathtub she would never be able to scrub it off.

"What's crackin', Uta?" Touka strode into the shop without a care, plucking up a mask as she did so. She didn't care if anyone was with him. It was a beaked mask, something like a plague doctor, and it reminded her of Yomo. Her heart ached. She wanted to go home.

Uta, without missing a beat, rolled into view and offered out his hand. "Nuts?"

She glanced down at the human testicles in his hand.

"No thanks," she said flatly.

"Don't like nuts, Touka?" The way he said Touka-chan was airy and light, his voice a breeze and his words a weight. She scowled at him.

"Clearly not as much as you do." She covered her face with the mask. "Quick! Who am I?"

"You do remind me of Ren," Uta said thoughtfully. "Have you ever noticed? You are very alike, you know."

"Me?" She lowered the mask to scoff in his face. "Like Yomo? Those balls aren't the only nuts in this room."

"Not the way he is now, I guess." Uta hummed, spinning side to side in his chair. "The way he was before. When we were young. Young and angry and hungry." Uta smiled his soft stretch of a smile. "For different reasons."

"You're a weird guy, Uta." Touka set the bird mask aside. "So am I cool? Can I get my mask?"

"Eager to fight?"

She scowled at him.

"Has Kaneki gotten his mask yet?" She folded her arms across her chest. "I'll take it if it's done."

"Mhm, it's done." Uta stood up. "I wanted to see him wear it, though. I'm really quite excited about this one."

"You can't approach Kaneki," Touka sighed. "He's definitely being swarmed by doves right now, and your eyes are… well. You know. You'd be caught in a second."

"True enough, I guess. Sad, though." Uta was rummaging in the back. The sound of moving papers, shifting fabric, and shuffling boxes made her peek behind the curtain. Uta's studio was a hot mess, that was for sure. It was an explosion of color, of glitter and fabric and measurements and glass and metal and string and buckles and plastic and paint. There were heads, blank, faceless busts on every visible surface, some half decorated in satin or cracked vinyl or plastic coverings, some with pins sticking out of their noses and cheekbones, some with chunks of their empty faces ripped off.

She whistled, and she whistled low.

"You should model," Uta called out to her.

"I'm not going to model."

"Not even for me?"

"No, Uta."

"And Ayato? Would he do it?"

"No, Uta. Definitely not."

"Sad face." Uta said this in the most genuine, unironic voice she'd ever heard. She couldn't even cringe, because this was Uta. "I guess it's pointless to ask for Ren, then."

"Listen," Touka said with a snort, "if you wanna ask him, be my guest. Actually, record that. I want to see his lack of reaction in real time."

"How mean." Uta was smiling as he brought her the boxes. "Do you realize you're mean, Touka?"

"It's my specialty dish of hot bitch, Uta." She took the boxes and smiled back. "Nobody can compare. I'm just wicked evil all day every day."

"Would the hot bitch please model her mask for me?"

Touka groaned.

Uta held up his spindly, heavily tattooed hands in the form of prayer. "Please?"

"Ugh," she grumbled, setting the boxes down on a table. "Fine. Only because I'm excited to see it, though."

She tore open the box with her name on it, digging through the bubbles and wrappings and pulling out a satiny mask, so black it seemed to glint blue in the striking studio lights. The satin was thin, translucent, and beneath the shimmer of the gossamer fabric, enameled yellow stars freckled the smooth face. Its eyes were two crescent moons turned upon each other, and between them a waxy white moon. A gilded band of laurels that wrapped around the back of the mask and paused mid-forehead. The gossamer seemed to flow from the laurels, falling evenly like a smooth river.

"Oh," she exhaled.

"Are you going to put it on?"

The felt like she was holding something delicate. Was this mask made of glass? She knew that Uta sometimes pulled the Venetian method out of his ass, but this was something else entirely. It was simple in design, yet intricate in its creation. She pulled the mask around her head, noting that the laurel band stretched to meet the shape of her head. The inside of the mask was smooth and cool.

"How does it look…?" She tilted her head. The mask felt lighter than it was when it was on her face.

"It suits you." Uta was smiling, looking pleased with himself. "Well, it's no rabbit, but I think it does anyway."

"Can't wait to see what they call me," she murmured, turning her head from side to side to test how strong the laurels were.

"So you're expecting to get into more altercations with the CCG, despite being friends with a dove?" Uta looked at her with his dark, eerie eyes all aglow with curiosity. "Where did you go, Touka? What are you doing?"

"It's complicated." She pulled off the mask and stuffed it into the box she'd pulled it out of. "Thanks for everything, Uta. I'll get this to Kaneki, kay?"

And so she was off again.

She decided to walk to the park. It was actually really nice, once she actually got to it, with a swing set that created the illusion of a prettier time, where she could chase her brother around the chain links and tackle him into a hug. She set the box on the ground beside the swing, and she sat down. The park had three or four children running about a jungle gym. One was climbing atop a giant whale that gleamed in the midday sun.

There was something strange about being here. She was really close to the twentieth ward. Anyone could end up recognizing her. Why was she risking this?

Because Kaneki had asked her to?

She was growing tired of this game.

The worst part was, she hadn't even started yet.

Really she hadn't thought this through. There was a list in her pocket of the names of the higher ups in Aogiri. She'd deliberately avoided writing Ayato's name down. The CCG didn't need to know about him.

She would leave it in the whale. That was a practical choice.

"Touka?"

She leapt to her feet and whirled around. Standing directly behind her swing was a curious boy, headphones half hanging off his ears as he leaned forward.

She relaxed a little when she saw it was just Hide.

"It's just you," she murmured, pushing her hair out of her eye. She felt her feet stumble over one another. She sighed deeply. "I thought it was someone from school, or something."

"Your missing poster has come up a lot." Hide smiled sheepishly. "We had to put one in Anteiku. To make it less suspicious."

"Oh?" She grimaced. "Great. Um, how is that?"

"It's good." He smiled. "Hinami is good."

"Oh!" she gasped, nodding quickly. "Good. That's really good."

"Good."

"Ha ha." She rolled her eyes, and then rolled her head with them. "God. Sorry. I wasn't expecting to have to interact with you."

"You say that like it's a chore!" Hide laughed a booming laugh, and he rounded the swing set. "Touka. Is everything okay?"

"Everything is fine."

He nodded. He looked around, his hair reflecting the brilliant sunlight. He was blinding. And she felt small looking at him.

"I'm gonna head off to work soon." He walked backwards. He kept walking. She realized he wanted her to follow, so she scooped up her boxes and walked tentatively behind him. "But I came here. Just… I had a feeling. A good feeling."

"Do you come here a lot?"

"Whenever I need to really think." His back bumped up against the giant whale, and his smile was big and white and gleaming. "I'm glad I ran into you, though. It feels like fate."

"There really is no such thing as fate," Touka laughed. Hide pouted at her.

"I disagree!" He lifted his chin up high. "What do you call Kaneki's date with Rize?"

"A terrible accident."

"Destiny!" He shook his head. "Think about it."

"I'm thinking." She hugged her boxes to her chest. "You're being a dork. There really is no such thing as fate."

"I can't believe that," Hide said calmly, "because I'm here, with you, against all odds. Don't you think that it's funny? A friendship like ours shouldn't exist. But we beat the odds, and that must be fate. Don't you think?"

He was saying these things, and they were falling out of her ears without properly getting processed. She wanted to be snide. You think we're friends? But she couldn't manage to form the words. It was a frightening prospect.

Uta had told her she was mean, but was she cruel?

No. She didn't think so.

"A friendship like ours?" she asked in a low, bemused tone.

"Ghoul and human." He grinned wickedly, and then he hefted himself up on the whale's tail. "You let me into this world, you know. You can't take it all back now."

"Ugh." She watched him pull himself onto the back of the whale, and she shook her head. She kicked off the tail and landed easily onto its back, settling down beside him and setting the boxes between them. He stared at her with large eyes. "What?"

"You're so cool," he said goofily, a silly smile stretching on his lips.

"Oh my god." She pulled her knees up to her chin, and she wanted to bury her face in them. "Stop. Stop it. Are you ever for real?"

"I am always one hundred percent real." Hide winked. "The most real. Check it." He gentle poked her bicep. "Real!"

She wanted to push him off this goddamn whale.

"No, I mean it." She stared at him intently, watching his expression change. "Tell me if you're for real. You'll flirt with me nonstop, but what about me is so fucking appealing? And don't tell me I'm fucking pretty, man, I'll tear you apart."

"But you are pretty," Hide pointed out. She moved to smack him, but he held his hands up in defense. "Hey, I'm just laying down the truth! You're pretty. But… you're also way more than that. I don't know. Are you asking if I'd date you for real?"

She opened her mouth. And then she closed it.

He smiled. "I would," he told her gently. "Anyone would be lucky to be loved by you, Touka. But, also… you're the kind of girl that I'd bring home to disappoint my parents."

"Um." She was utterly at a loss. "Thank you. I think."

"It really is a compliment. You're cute, yeah, anyone can see that, but I'm pretty sure my whole family would hate your guts." He leaned his head back to look at the sky, which was hazy with grayish clouds. The sun was peeking through them, and once again he looked like light incarnate. "I think that's awesome. Maybe that's why I like you so much."

"Your family." She studied him closely, the way the sun seemed to drip on his skin and cause him to light up. "You don't live with them?"

"Nah." He laughed nervously, rubbing his messy hair. "It's complicated."

"You can tell me." She offered him a shrug. "It's not like I have anything better to do today." Well. She had a mission. But she had time.

"Well…" Hide glanced at her, and she realized he probably didn't know what he could actually tell her. Like he couldn't trust her fully. She supposed that was fair enough. "I guess… it began with my mom and dad. They got married, it was very big and very proper, and when I was born it was all a good time. Everything was good. And then it wasn't, I guess."

"Hm." She hugged her knees tighter to her chest. "Sounds like life."

"Life's got a way of fucking you up in ways that make you feel like half a person." He lifted his own knees, studying the sky thoughtfully. "Um. I guess you want… details?" He smiled at her. "Kaneki tells me I need to be more upfront about things. I don't think I've ever really explained this to anyone before."

"Not even Kaneki?"

"Kaneki lives in a bubble." Hide closed his eyes contentedly. "He can't see past his own problems, but he can't bear to burden anyone else with them, so he gets stuck. I thought about telling him these things, but he… had it a lot worse than me. I didn't want to make him feel bad because my dad worked too much, or that my mom kept pushing me to get involved in things my dad would hate, or that parents stopped loving each other, or that my parents fought over me like dogs ripping at the last piece of meat on a bone."

"Tell me about it," Touka demanded. Yes. She demanded it. She needed to hear his voice, because it drowned out the restless spirit inside Touka's head that was also demanding. It said that she had to go, and keep going, and never stop going. That this was all a mistake. That she was not good enough to help anyone. That she was weak. A coward. Ayato was right, wasn't he? She didn't want to believe any of it. So she let Hide take her away from here, from this moment of insufficiency.

Hide looked at her.

She thought that maybe, because of the way his eyes muddied, and his face fell, that he might have been looking at her truly for the first time.

What did he see?

She knew it would not be what he wanted.

"My parents do love me." Hide did not take his eyes off her. "I know I'm lucky, because I can say that. I know they love me, but they've always been bad at showing it. Like I said, my dad works a lot. I don't see him. I don't really want to, I guess, but… I think that's a result of resenting him for years and years of never being there. I don't know. He always had really high expectations for a stranger."

"That's sad." Touka only said it because she felt it was the polite thing to do. In truth, she only knew this pain in part. Her father had disappeared, but before that he'd been consistent and loving and she had never wanted for anything when with him. So they could not compare.

"My mother, she was always around. She was the one who raised me. I'm sure Kaneki met her at least a few times. He didn't totally live in a bubble, and he used to sleep over my house sometimes. When the divorce was happening, he couldn't so much. I still feel guilty about it."

"Why?"

"Because I let him down." He rested his cheek against his knee as he smiled at her. "I hate doing that."

"You really are for real right now, aren't you?" She watched him tiredly. "Why don't you tell the truth all the time?"

"Because I don't know how?" he offered. "This is just a fluke. I'm telling you this because you're sad, and I know you're sad. I guess I'd do just about anything to take some of that sadness away."

"That's… sweet." She found herself puzzled. "But you're not obligated to make me feel anything. We barely know each other."

"You're important," Hide said brightly. "So let me make you feel like it. Okay? Okay. So… right. Mom. She's off in Paris, I think. Or, er, maybe it's Switzerland now? Damn. I don't know." He stretched his legs out on the whale and leaned back. "Somewhere in Europe. My mom was really well off, you know? Like, this snobby rich bitch who doesn't have to work ever because she's made of money? I don't even know. My parents kind of just reek of old money, which is strange to think about. But they are. So what happened was that dad won me, technically, even though I'd been living with mom my whole entire life and barely knew him, and so mom split, but like… I don't want to live with my dad. I hate my dad sometimes. So basically the arrangement is that I get to live in one of his apartments rent free as long as he can check up on me whenever." Hide gave a cheerful shrug. "Lucky for me, he doesn't have the time. But it was still just dangerous enough that Hinami can't live with me."

"Oh." Touka's mouth dropped open. "Oh! That makes… a lot of sense. I get it now."

"That's just my reality." He nudged her gently. "Okay, your turn. Tell me the juicy secrets about your family."

"Um." Well! Shit. This was gonna be a downer. "Mom died young. Doves. Don't remember her too well, but I guess I kinda look like her. Who knows? Dad was nice. He made us be nice to people. He loved people. And people loved him." She closed her eyes. "And then they betrayed him. He died. Doves got him too, probably. We actually don't know. My brother still thinks he abandoned us, and I don't have the heart to tell him that our dad probably died the night he didn't come home. Maybe I should. Just to hurt him. He's an asshole, and I hate him, and he deserves it, right?"

When she took a breath, she found it shaky, so she stopped talking. They were silent for a while.

"Do you want the truth?" Hide asked. "Of why I act the way I do towards you?"

"Sure."

"I guess I just wanted to know why." Hide watched her as a painter might scrutinize a canvas. "Why you? Why is Kaneki so enamored with you?"

"He's not… enamored…"

"No, Touka. He is." Hide shook his head. "I've never seen Kaneki treat anyone the way he treats you. And it's not in the way that he was enamored with Rize, either. Compared to you, Rize was like a bad dream."

"Oh please." She sunk. "Everyone was in love with Rize. Hell, I was half in love with Rize. Don't flatter me, okay? It's not believable."

"It doesn't matter." Hide shook his head. "If Kaneki thinks you're the best thing in the world, chances are he will never stop. And honestly, I'm beginning to understand it. Touka… he sees something in you that is genuine. The one thing I know Kaneki and I have in common is that we are experts at hiding who we are and how we feel. But you?" He looked at her like she could, plausibly, cup her hands and catch the dripping sunlight in her palms. "You say what you mean, and you do what you want, and you're strong in spite of everything life throws at you. I think you're the kind of person Kaneki wants to be. No wonder he likes you so much."

She exhaled, covering her mouth with her knees. It was a strange thought. She didn't even like Kaneki that much.

But even now she found herself doubting that more and more.

When had that become a lie?

"Make him stop," she whispered. "I don't want anyone to rely on me for anything."

Too late for that. Holy shit, she was awful. Had she not thought about this when she'd decided to become Kaneki's goddamn spy?

"He's not relying on you for anything other than to stay alive." Hide watched her with his eyes like molten bronze. "You can do that, right?"

"God. I don't know, I hope so?" She scooted away from him. "Don't pressure me!"

Hide laughed, which was kind of satisfying. "You and I have got to make a difference." He looked strange now, distant in an unfathomable sort of way. Like he wasn't entirely sure where he wanted to be, but it wasn't here. "Touka, you should know… if anything bad happens at all, he will blame himself."

"What?" She couldn't help but be absolutely incredulous. "Why?"

"We all have our weird habits. Kaneki's just happens to be an irrational fear of being hated. So he takes the load, whatever it is, and he bears it." Hide stared at Touka with large eyes. "Hey. Why did you run away?"

She opened her mouth, but all that came out was a puff of air. She found herself cupping her hand over it and sinking forward. She wanted to mold herself into a ball. She wanted to become part of this odd blue sculpture. She wanted to disintegrate right here, right now.

The truth was, she didn't know why she'd done the things that she'd done.

Was that wrong? To be ignorant of oneself?

"I don't have to tell you anything," she snapped, moving to leap off the whale.

"That wasn't right," Hide gasped. "Wait! I made a mistake! That's not what I wanted to ask."

She paused for half a moment, her leg swung over the side of the sculpture. She glanced back at him.

"What I wanted to ask," he said softly, "was what would make you happy?"

"I don't know." She glared at him. "Who even knows that kind of shit? I don't know anything, okay? I don't know why I do the things I do, and I definitely don't know what I want or what makes me happy!"

Hide watched her. Her shouting did not seem to affect him. Instead, he smiled.

"Man," he laughed, rubbing the back of his head and ruffling his hair. "We're more alike than I thought."

She sat in utter shock, frozen with his words plucking the hair from her skin. She wanted to ask a thousand questions, and they all gathered inside her mouth, begging to be vomited with all her pent up emotions, all the things she'd drowned out or lost touch with in the span of days, weeks, months, years. Hide reminded her that she was not quite as hollow as she'd thought, and that scared her.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't want you to say anything," Hide admitted. "I just like talking to you. You seem like someone who doesn't gossip, so I feel like I can just keep talking around you. Is that okay?"

"No," she said firmly. "Stop doing it."

This was a total lie. She liked that he was talking to her.

To be honest… she hadn't had any real company for a week.

The anxiety of this mission, the knowledge that she would betray everyone she came in contact with at Aogiri, the fact that there was danger at every turn, made her want to tear her hair out.

She felt like she was losing her mind with all the cliffs and edges she had to deal with.

But Hide was… soft. Not in the way that Kaneki was soft. Kaneki was strange. He was like a wave of déjà vu, a dizzying sensation of wanting and wanting and wanting and ending up hollowed out by all the wants in all the world. Kaneki made her feel like she had something to prove. Hide made her feel like she'd done everything she possibly could to perfection, but somehow or another it had been too much, and it was so overwhelming. Kaneki was soft like smudged ink on a page. Hide was soft like heat haze, something there, something palpable, but when you reached out to touch it, it disappeared.

So Hide watched her. And maybe he was hurt by her words, and maybe he had a funny way of showing it, because he laughed at her, laughed like he could never laugh again, and she wished she could beat the shit out of him just this once, because it felt like the thing to do. You know? The thing to do was always to just beat the problems away.

But right now, she didn't know what to do.

"What are you laughing at?"

He stopped.

The look on his face told her.

He doesn't know.

Yeah, okay. Maybe they had some things in common.

She exhaled sharply.

"Okay." She scooted closer and stuck her hand in her coat pocket. "Look. I actually have some stuff for Kaneki. Think you can get it to him safely?"

"I'd stake my life on it," Hide said brightly without missing a beat. "Let me have it."

She sighed. She pulled the folded scrap of paper out of her pocket and lifted Kaneki's box up. "Take this to him, and make sure no one else sees it. Got it?"

"I'm your delivery boy, Touka." He said Touka-chan as though he had never known her name before, and was testing it tentatively. It sounded soft and feeble, testing, testing, one, two, three.

He took the box and paper from her hands.

She wanted to know more.

She wanted more than what she had.

What did she want?

She didn't even know.

He hadn't meant to run away.

Truly. Don't you believe it?

It wasn't like he wanted to make anyone worry.

But once you start walking and thinking and stopping and drinking it all in, things get muddied, and your pace speeds up. And maybe you're not walking anymore. Maybe you're running. And it's nothing new, so you don't think much of it until you're vomiting in a public toilet.

The vomiting was new. He didn't usually vomit when he had panic attacks.

Did I make myself throw up? He had to wonder about it as he heaved deep breaths on the grimy tile floor of a public transit bathroom. It smelled so thoroughly of urine, and of course he knew how dirty it was, but he couldn't get up. His knees felt weak. His chest had seized, and his eyes were stinging from the tears. It wasn't a big deal. This happened all the time.

But getting outed? That didn't happen all the time.

Getting outed to Kaneki. That was the worst.

No. Not even. The worst was actually the fact that Kaneki had taken Mutsuki's file in the first place. And then hidden it. Because he read it, and he knew. He knew all the things Mutsuki had been trying so desperately to bury. His gender, his institutionalization, his awful "incidents" at the junior academy. Great. Just… perfect.

Now Kaneki was going to think he was a freak. A psychopath who couldn't even figure out what gender he wanted to be.

Gross. This was so gross. Mutsuki dry heaved, but he had nothing left to vomit, so he settled on spitting bile into the toilet. Of course it reeked. Everything about this bathroom stunk. But Mutsuki didn't have a sensitive nose, and he'd smelled worse things than a dingy bathroom clinging with the odor of dried piss and fresh puke.

Mutsuki had been trying really hard to hide it. It seemed like everyone had just been finding out. First Washuu Yoshitoki had all but broadcasted it, flaunting Mutsuki's file and deciding to keep it to himself. Mutsuki had been pleased— he'd thought that maybe that would be the last of it, that he was safe now! But nope. Nope, of course not.

Were things ever that simple?

If there was anything Mutsuki had learned, it was how to keep menstruation low key. He went through the motions, and hid it as best as he could from Kaneki. Miraculously, he hadn't found out that time. But of course someone else did.

Mutsuki didn't want to think about it. That Tsukiyama guy made him want to vomit all over again.

And then it just got worse, because Hide had figured it out right after!

"Please don't cry, Mutsuki. That guy is an ass, and you don't have to be ashamed of who you are around us. Okay?"

And Mutsuki had frozen. His tears head been hot on his cheeks. All he could do was look up at Hide fearfully. He stood without any reservations, easygoing and bright with the sun as his own personal halo.

"Don't tell Kaneki."

Being accepted was tough work. It was like having a really ugly mark on your face and using a rusty nail to forcibly remove it.

You only really made the situation worse.

And now this.

How was he supposed to come back from this? He didn't know what to say. Because he didn't know what Kaneki would say. Sure, Hide had been all accepting and nice, but Mutsuki knew that was the polite thing to do, and that did not often reflect inner feelings. Mutsuki had to live with Kaneki. This would be so awkward, and none of the atmosphere would be the same, and he would be treated differently because he was trans, and he just wanted it to stop. To end.

He wanted to be normal.

Yeah. That was an awful thing to think. But it was true. He didn't know how else to describe this feeling, but he knew things would be different if he was happy with what he'd been given.

But nope. He wasn't. He wasn't happy, and he would never be happy, and the only time he ever felt anything close to happy was when he was being himself. Him.

But now every day would be a reminder of everything he lacked. His personality would never be conventionally masculine. Neither would his features. He looked boyish, sure, but the icky thing about it was that he had a weird softness to his face that made him look delicate. Some people might call it pretty. He thought those people needed to reevaluate their life choices and maybe stay a good twenty feet in the opposite direction with their backs turned and their hands over their eyes. But that was just him.

He wiped his mouth slowly, and it came back slobbery. Well. That was really gross.

Honestly, he didn't feel like he was ready to get up off the floor, but the smells were starting to get to his head, and he kind of thought he might pass out. Which was bad. Anything could happen if he was passed out. He had to move now.

So he got up, a wave of vertigo hitting him like a bullet through the spine, and he shouldered the stall hard. He took deep breaths, kicking the toilet to flush it. His forehead was sweaty, and he pressed a cool hand beneath his messy bangs. The back of his throat burned from the vomit. He wanted to groan, but he'd heard the door open a few minutes before that, and he didn't remember hearing anyone leave, so he was self-conscious. He probably would have been anxious to the point where he couldn't vomit, but he had no way of stopping it, so it just kept pouring out. That was embarrassing.

Mutsuki took a deep breath. It tasted awful. His own breath was rancid, and he could only shudder in disgust.

He unlocked the stall and gingerly pulled it open. He took a step out of it, and looked up.

There was a wave of déjà vu.

"Bonjour," Tsukiyama Shuu greeted.

Now, Mutsuki imagined a few different ways this could go down.

One, he could turn around and lock himself back in the stall. He felt the urge to vomit again, so it wasn't a bad plan. Two, he could make a snarky comment about how creepy this guy was and walk out. Or three, Mutsuki could just stand there like an idiot, his mouth open and his eyes wide, and just do nothing about this development.

Can you guess what he did?

Yeah. He thought he was an idiot too.

"Please tell me you remember me." Tsukiyama's brow knitted together worriedly, and he leaned forward, pressing his hands together as though in prayer. "Please don't think too badly of me. I don't know what your friend told you, but—"

"You're a ghoul," Mutsuki cut in sharply.

Tsukiyama blinked. He straightened up abruptly, as though shocked upright. His mouth parted into a solid O, and then it morphed into a smirk.

"I suppose so," he said. "It's not really a secret. But what does that make you?"

"Not interested in you." When Mutsuki moved, he knew he had two choices. The door, which was the smart choice, or the sinks, which was the comfortable choice. He wanted to escape, but he also wanted to get the taste and stench of vomit out of his mouth. What was he supposed to choose? He gripped the hem of his shirt nervously. He hadn't worn a coat. He'd run out of the apartment too quickly.

In his defense, he'd planned on coming right back.

But then he hadn't. Why was that?

Because he was dumb. Dumb and blinded by his own fear. That was why.

And even still, even now, he told himself he'd head back in a few minutes. Or maybe an hour. Or two.

Just let it all sink in. Cool down.

But the longer he stayed away, the worse it would get. He knew that. He wasn't stupid.

Mutsuki walked very slowly to the sink. He flicked it on. The water gathered in his palm. As he poured it into his mouth, he was keenly aware of Tsukiyama's eyes glued to his shoulders and neck and face.

What Mutsuki wouldn't give to be anywhere else but here right now.

"That was a little rude," Tsukiyama pointed out.

And just like that, Mutsuki was overcome with guilt.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, gripping the stained, graffitied ledge of the sink until his knuckles turned white.

Tsukiyama continued to stare at him. He was simultaneously flushing and blanching, if you could believe it. He felt hot, like his clothes were too warm and too tight, but when he looked at his reflection it was grossly pale. Especially for him. Not to mention the space around his eyelid looked yellowed, like an old bruise. It was just his insomnia, but his appearance had become so shabby and sunken in the matter of minutes, like years of wear had finally caught up with it.

Beautiful. This was amazing. Everything was great.

"You seem upset." Tsukiyama pushed off the sink a yard or so away and stepped closer. "Need a hand?"

"No."

"You're sick."

"I'm fine."

"Now, now!" Tsukiyama waggled his finger, which Mutsuki thought was annoying, and he wanted to say so, but he didn't want to be any ruder than he already was so he just frowned at his reflection some more. "I don't think vomiting excessively into a toilet all alone in the bathroom of a subway constitutes as fine. Do you?"

"Just leave me alone. Please." Mutsuki drew a cool, wet hand down his face. "I… don't want to sound rude, but you freak me out, and I want to be alone right now."

"You didn't think that sounded rude?"

Mutsuki winced.

Oh man.

"What do you want?" he sighed.

"Just for you to answer my question?" Tsukiyama held up his hands in surrender. "What are you?"

Mutsuki shifted uncomfortably, thinking of the last time they'd met.

This man's voice rung inside his head, and another bout of nausea struck him.

"Oh my, what's this? So you're a girl, hm?"

"I thought I already established," Mutsuki whispered, his face flooding in shame, "that I'm a boy."

"Oh." Tsukiyama's whole atmosphere changed. He seemed almost remorseful, which should have been satisfying, but instead was just another annoying thing on top of the most annoying man on the planet. Mutsuki couldn't even tell how dangerous this man was because he was so ridiculous. "I'm sorry, I should have specified. I understand now, that you're a boy. It was my mistake earlier, and I do sincerely apologize for it."

"Why don't I buy that?" Mutsuki took a deep breath. He was being an asshole about this. He shouldn't be so mean. Tsukiyama had never really done anything wrong except approach him, really. But then Mutsuki remembered when he'd been grabbed in the bathroom at Kamii, and he wanted to run all over again.

"I'll admit," Tsukiyama said thoughtfully, cupping his chin. "I find it difficult to understand, but I don't think it's anything to be ashamed of. This is a modern world. You seem to be a very modern man."

"Okay, I have to go." Mutsuki turned around.

"Would you explain?" Tsukiyama called. "Tell me more about being trans! I want to understand it."

Do you really, though? Mutsuki bit his lip. He had to leave. He really had to just run away, and be smart.

He'd fallen for this before. This trick, a sympathetic adult trying to understand, trying to help.

And then he cuts you open, and you have to crawl away.

One of the Scorpion daggers was sheathed at the small of his back. The other he'd left at the apartment.

"Tsukiyama," Mutsuki sighed, turning around very slowly. "I… I guess it's presumptuous to say, but I know you don't actually care. Please. It's been a bad day, and I don't want to talk about it."

"And you want me to leave you alone?"

"That… would be nice."

Tsukiyama stood with a furrowed brow and a cupped chin, as though he really could not figure out why the hell Mutsuki wanted him to back off.

"Okay," Mutsuki said waving quickly. He noticed how Tsukiyama perked up. "Listen, I'm going to tell you the truth. Okay? Um… honestly, Tsukiyama, you're kind of a stalker, and you're really nosy, and I don't actually like talking about my gender, especially not to creepy strangers who probably want to eat me." Mutsuki shook his head. "Please stop following me."

"Why would I want to eat you?" Tsukiyama laughed. "Are you not technically a ghoul?"

"I…" Mutsuki blinked. He shook his head. "I don't know. I don't know what I am."

"Is Kaneki the same?" Tsukiyama whistled. "No, he can't be. He's definitely more ghoul than human."

"What?"

"Mm, yeah." Tsukiyama hummed as he looked up at the ceiling. "He's a little spooky, hm? He's very threatening, don't you think? Which is funny. He doesn't seem the type."

"Ah…" Mutsuki didn't want to think of Kaneki as scary. He did not want to think of Kaneki as scary!

This was bad. This was bad. This was bad.

Mutsuki felt overwhelmed again. He took a deep breath. No. He couldn't have another panic attack. He just had to take deep breaths. It was okay. It was okay.

And then he was heaving deep breaths against the graffitied bathroom sink. Doing this in front of Tsukiyama was beyond humiliating. It was terrifying. He didn't know what to do, and he realized he was crying before he could stop it, and he didn't know how to make it stop.

Most of all, he wished Tsukiyama would just go away. Him being here made it ten times worse.

When his breathing became regular, and his body uncoiled from the tension that had seized his muscles, he realized how shaky and weak he'd become.

If Tsukiyama wanted to kill him, Mutsuki would not be able to get away easily.

Not to say that he couldn't get away. Mutsuki wasn't sure, but if he really want to survive it'd be manageable.

He sunk to his knees, his arms draped over the sink as he took deep, shaky breaths.

I'm okay, it's okay, everything is okay, he told himself. Kaneki is a good person. This was a misunderstanding. He won't hurt me.

But it didn't make the fear go away.

Mutsuki jumped. Something was dropped onto his shoulders abruptly, and he realized quickly by the nauseating scent of expensive cologne that it was Tsukiyama's blazer.

"Deep breaths," Tsukiyama advised. He reached out, his fingers stroking Mutsuki's hair, and Mutsuki lurched back. "Ah, was that not right? I thought touch helped."

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Mutsuki yanked the blazer tighter around himself. "No! Definitely not! Don't touch someone! Who's having! A panic attack! Ever!"

"It's always helped me before."

"Don't." Mutsuki sucked in a great gulp of air, and he shuddered. "No. Don't do it. Ever. Bad idea."

"What should I do, then?"

"Stay… away…" Mutsuki shook his head.

"That just sounds impractical. You're clearly unable to get up."

"That's fine. I don't care. Stay back. Like." He sucked in a breath, and blinked the tears from his eyes rapidly. "Um. Other side of the room back. Or locked in a stall. Back. Or. Something. Anything."

Tsukiyama let his hands go up, and he stood, backing away slowly. Mutsuki exhaled a great sigh of relief. While he cooled down, he tried to think about what had triggered this. It made him anxious, so he stopped.

Maybe he should just go home.

Ah. One problem.

"Um… Tsukiyama…?" Mutsuki found himself half under the sink, his knees wobbling feebly. He was definitely not ready to go anywhere. Two panic attacks so close together, especially on an empty stomach, especially after walking so far for so long, especially after vomiting. He was totally spent.

Without another word between them, Tsukiyama, who did not need any prompting, assisted Mutsuki by throwing one arm over his shoulder and hefting him to his feet.

"Thanks," Mutsuki mumbled.

"This was unexpected," Tsukiyama admitted.

"Please… just help me to the door. I can make it onto the subway."

"I have a car." Tsukiyama offered it with a shocking amount of kindness to his tone. "If it's home you want, I can take you there."

Mutsuki was smart. He knew. He knew, he knew, he knew.

He was living on this cycle of despair that was doomed to repeat.

But he was tired. And he was sick. And he wanted to just… see this through… because he had been happy for the first time in a very long time. And now he was doubting.

He'd doubted Kaneki. And now he would probably pay for that.

Maybe that was for the best?

Maybe he didn't really believe that, but he'd believe anything if it meant getting out of this bathroom.

"Okay," Mutsuki agreed in total resignation.

Chapter Text

Kaneki was going absolutely fucking insane.

Okay. Not really.

He knew what it was really like to fling off the wire, and frankly, he didn't want to slip up again. He'd been good. He had no real reason to be filled with hollowing hatred and rage.

However, today, not unlike other days where he'd let himself fall into a sleepy rage, he felt the need to become stronger.

He should never have stolen that file.

Who did that? Who took a kid's file and then hid it without telling them? Like, Kaneki knew he'd fucked up. He wanted to take it all back. He wanted to apologize to Mutsuki. But Mutsuki was gone. And Kaneki knew that whatever happened now would be all his fault.

This was a solemn reminder of when Hinami had run off and gotten caught by Mado. He could not possibly blame Mutsuki for leaving, but he felt a distinct throttle of shock and panic, like he was already too fucking late.

There was no real way to know where Mutsuki had gone. He'd left no trace, no way of contact. He was simply a thought drifting off into obscurity, and Kaneki feared like he feared all things, that Mutsuki would not come back. For reasons that could only be pinned to Kaneki's mindlessness, to his goddamn inability to take a fucking hint. How had he not noticed? How had he let Mutsuki be consumed by his doubts?

All I've ever been good at is pushing people away, he thought dimly. All I'm ever good for is making the people I care about hurt.

It wasn't a fair assessment to himself or to those around him, and he knew it, but he couldn't help it. He felt this way, consistently, unendingly, as though he was in a cycle of destruction done in by his own hand.

In all the plays, in all the epic poems, in all of history, it seemed that the only flaw a tragic hero could have was hubris.

But Kaneki Ken had nothing to be proud of.

"You know we'll find him eventually," Amon said, glancing at him from the driver's seat. Kaneki didn't reply. The panic had settled in, of course, and now he was just wallowing in it. He didn't know what to do or where to go or how to even begin looking for a boy who could be anywhere in the city by now.

The colors of the world were being sucked out. He could hear god's mouth against the sky, slurping up every last drop of baby blue and emerald green and dusty yellow. The city was being drained of life, clouds bumping along one another to fray the edges of the saturated world and make all the color fall right out.

He let his forehead bump up against the window as the first few drops of rain struck it. The skyscrapers were towering over him like bulky gray prisons, and he wondered if Mutsuki was in one of those buildings.

Maybe at the top of one.

Stop, he told himself sharply. You're awful. Disgusting. Stop projecting yourself onto him. Stop it.

But it was so hard!

Especially when Mutsuki reminded him so much of himself.

"Kaneki."

He closed his eyes.

This was bad. This was bad. This was so fucking bad.

And it was hard, too. It was so hard.

To pretend like he knew what he was doing.

"Hey." Amon's hand stretched over the seat, and Kaneki couldn't even flinch when he clapped him on the shoulder. "We'll find him. Don't worry."

Kaneki opened his eyes.

What if I killed him?

He wanted to say what he wanted to mean.

Instead he just closed up.

He shrugged Amon's hand off, and he nodded. Nodded. Nodded.

Nodded.

Away and away and away.

Ah. What was it about suicides and literature?

"What do you know," Kaneki asked, dragging his finger along the condensation on the glass of the window, "about Hamlet?"

"Well, I've read it," Amon said. "Of course I've read it. To be or not to be, and all that. Why?"

"Are you Christian?"

Amon bristled. Kaneki noted this with great interest, his mind ticking off the strange movement of his shoulders as he shifted in his seat, his adam's apple bobbing and his eyes flicking aside. A sore topic, to be sure.

"Not really, no."

"But you wear a crucifix," Kaneki pointed out. He didn't point to it— he didn't want to be rude.

"It's nothing. Just a reminder. It means nothing to me."

Kaneki smiled thinly. "Really?" he asked. "It wasn't hard to cast off your religion like that?"

"It's easy to throw away something that has given you nothing but grief."

Kaneki watched him, his forehead still resting against the cool glass.

"You don't need a memento to remind you of grief, Amon," he said. "People don't wear their burdens around their necks so that they remember that they have burdens. Nobody needs to be reminded. It's just there."

"Well I do," Amon snapped. Kaneki watched him dully, and he seemed to slowly relax as the silence dripped down in the space between them, smothering the air and stifling them. "I'm sorry. I don't know what I believe in, Kaneki. It's a sore subject."

"I guess it's my fault for pushing," Kaneki admitted. "Anyway, you're familiar with Christianity at least?"

"Yes, Christianity and I are well acquainted. Why?"

"Hamlet."

"Yes. Not really the pinnacle of Christian worship."

"In Christianity, suicide is a huge taboo," Kaneki said, "because Christians believe— believed?— that you won't go to heaven if you kill yourself. But then Hamlet comes along and gives this huge long speech about just… the thought, the mere idea of taking your own life. And it doesn't seem so scary when he says it, does it?"

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," he sighed, dotting eyes into the haphazard skull he'd sketched into the window, "sometimes the idea of nothing beyond what we have is the most tempting option."

"Mutsuki isn't suicidal."

Kaneki bit his tongue. He was going to say, Did you not read his file? But because Kaneki knew it was wrong to judge, he also knew he should keep his mouth shut.

"Maybe not." Kaneki struck a line through the skull grinning on the window besides his mouth. "I'm sorry. I'm paranoid. He's fine, right? He's totally fine."

"Let's focus on the task at hand, okay, Kaneki?"

It was almost nightfall. The skyline was stuck in a grayish interlude from where god had inhaled the colors of day like a drag on a cigarette. When would god spit it all back out again in a great burst of smoke?

"It's getting dark." He straightened up suddenly. "Amon, I really don't like the idea of him being out by himself. He can't use his kagune."

"Mutsuki can still fight without a kagune." Amon glanced at Kaneki sharply. "Remember. He is a ghoul investigator. He's stronger than you think he is."

"He is fifteen years old, and being strong doesn't mean being strong enough."

Kaneki's phone began to buzz.

"We'll find him, Kaneki."

The more he said it, the more it sounded like a lie.

He pulled his phone from his pocket and glanced at it. It seemed to brighten the whole car as he read the text message from Hide.

I have something for you ;)

It took a fraction of a second for Kaneki to process these words.

"Amon!" Kaneki gasped. "Drive me to Anteiku!"

Could Mutsuki have gone to Hide? Was that what this was about?

God, Kaneki prayed. He prayed to any god that would listen that that was the case. That it was true.

Amon pressed harder on the gas, taking extreme measures to go faster in the thrum of Tokyo traffic. Everybody had a place to go in the city, but nothing seemed more important than this car reaching Mutsuki.

How many mistakes could Kaneki make in this timeline before everything collapsed?

"Is he here?" Amon asked, pulling up in front of Anteiku. He had to double park, which made him clearly uncomfortable. "Listen, I'm going to go find a real parking spot. Do you want to—?"

Kaneki had already leapt out of the car.

"Hide!" Kaneki burst through the door, skidding to a stop in the middle of the coffee shop. The usual euphoria that came with the distinct smell of Anteiku roared into life. His heart was beating hard, and he dropped his briefcase onto the counter. Hide looked at it, and then at Kaneki.

"You know," Hide remarked, "that outfit is pretty bad for business."

"Hide," Kaneki gasped, leaning forward and searching Hide's eyes. "Is Mutsuki here?"

It was odd to see Hide's face fall. The only thing comparable to the sight of it was as though approaching the Colossus of Rhodes, and just as the ship was about to pass through, a wonder of the world cracked and crumbled and sank before him.

"Did something happen?" Hide asked cautiously.

Kaneki let out a sharp breath, feeling all his energy fizzle out. He dropped into a chair and let his head fall slowing into his hands.

"I think I fucked up," he whispered. "I think I really fucked up, Hide."

"It's not your fault, Kaneki."

"You don't know that. You don't know." He took a deep, shaky breath. "I wanted him to trust me, but I totally fucked up. I'm responsible for him. I'm responsible for anything that happens to him."

"Kaneki, deep breaths!" Hide rounded the counter and jumped into the chair beside him, resting a hand on Kaneki's back. "Breathe, dude! Tell me what happened, okay?"

Kaneki didn't want to admit to his mistakes, but it was hard not to.

And plus, maybe Hide would know how to handle this.

"I stole Mutsuki's file a little while ago," Kaneki sighed, exhaling softly. "I… I didn't even read it, I just took it and… I put it away. I didn't tell Mutsuki because I just… I don't know. It slipped my mind. But today he found it, and now he's gone, and I don't know where he is."

There was a sharp whistle of breath that escaped between Hide's teeth. He'd averted his eyes sharply, sinking into his chair as he processed Kaneki's explanation.

"So he assumed you'd already read it and ran away." Hide stuck his thumbnail between his teeth, as though his hand might hide his nervous smile. "Shit, man."

"Yeah!" Kaneki stared at Hide intently. "I'm freaking out. This is definitely my fault."

"When did he leave?"

"I don't know? I wasn't home, but he didn't show up to work or to his doctor's appointment this morning."

"Kaneki, it's like almost five."

"I know that!" Kaneki winced. "That's exactly why I'm worried. I… I don't know what to do. I don't know how to be responsible for another person, Hide."

"It's okay."

"No it's not?" Kaneki held his forehead beneath his bangs, and the coolness of his fingers soothed him. "It's really not. I feel like I betrayed him, and I don't know how to fix that."

"He won't hate you for this, you know." Hide spoke with such certainty that Kaneki had to strain himself to not believe him. "Sure, he's probably angry right now. Maybe he's even just scared. Kaneki, I don't know Mutsuki that well, but I do know that there's a reason why he's so nervous. He deserves privacy, and breaching that… would make anyone want to be alone for a while."

"Are you saying I should stop looking for him?" He didn't want to do that.

"No," Hide said, taking his shoulder and squeezing it. "I'm saying that Mutsuki's reaction was natural, and maybe you shouldn't be so worried. It might be good for him to have some space. To take a breather."

"It's been hours."

"Sometimes you need hours to sort your shit out," Hide offered, holding up his hands as though in surrender. "Kaneki, you of all people should know that."

And there it was.

The hard, cold truth.

"I don't want Mutsuki to be like me," Kaneki said.

"I think it's a little late for that, bro," Hide laughed.

"No." Kaneki's fingernails dug into his palm. Maybe if he dug them in hard enough, his hands would stop shaking. "No. You don't get it. I would… give anything… for him to not end up like me."

Hide sat quietly beside him. He lowered his head. And in between them there was a stark division. Light and dark, love and hate, day and night. They were struggling with the bounds of their own understandings, if Kaneki could grasp the inner workings of Hide's brain, if Hide could see the complexities of Kaneki's pain.

And it felt like it was all for nothing.

"There's no one in the world better than you," Hide said suddenly.

"Lies don't make me feel better, Hide."

"If it comes from the heart, it's not a lie." Hide shot him a small smile, and he jumped off the chair. "No worries, though. You'll find him. I have faith in you."

Maybe you shouldn't.

Kaneki was overwhelmed by the sudden taste of blood in his mouth, so vivid and sweet that he touched his lips to test it. But his fingers came back clean, and the dryness of his throat reminded him that he had not eaten in weeks. His ribs were making mountain ranges out of his wan skin.

"Anyways, here's what I've got for you." Hide lifted a box from behind the counter and pushed it toward Kaneki. "Special delivery from a cute secret admirer."

"That better not mean you," Kaneki murmured, plucking up the note from on top of the box.

He recognized the scratchy handwriting almost immediately upon looking at the hastily folded scrap. So he leaned forward excitedly, soaking in the quick, uneven strokes of Touka's scrawled characters. These were names. Names that he knew, names that would sink into his skin and be branded on his bones long after he'd decomposed.

Names that he could tell Yoshitoki without sounded suspicious.

"You should go upstairs," Hide advised. "Hang out with Hina for a bit."

Kaneki tore his eyes from the paper, his eyes widening a bit. "But… Amon…"

"I'll take care of him." Hide shot Kaneki a brilliant smile. "No sweat. Just, y'know. Let Hina know nobody's forgotten about her."

Kaneki didn't need to be told twice.

When he got to Touka's door, he knocked once. When no one immediately answered, he knocked again. When there was still no answer, he rubbed the back of his neck, and he sighed.

"Hinami," he called. "It's me. It's Kaneki. Please let me in."

It was all so overwhelmingly silent after that. Kaneki grew nervous, like he had done something gravely wrong, and he couldn't remedy it quick enough. Being in Hinami's bad favors was a nightmare.

But then the door swung open.

"Kaneki…?" She looked sad and small and sleepy. Her hair was all askew, black and shiny and uneven from where Touka had shorn it. Kaneki smiled fondly.

"Hey," he said. "You okay?"

She nodded mutely. She nodded and nodded and nodded.

And then she stopped nodding.

She stared vacantly at his face. Her eyes were glassy and distant.

"Big sis isn't here now."

Those words were so filled with resignation, and it broke his heart.

"I… I know, Hinami." He offered a gentle smile. "Can I come in?"

"Yes," she said without missing a beat. When she stepped aside, her feet dragged against the wooden floor. "If you want to."

Kaneki entered, and Touka's scent hit him so hard his throat closed up.

It wasn't like she was dead or anything. But she was so far out of reach, and he just wanted to have the option to have her close. Being away from her was only painful when he knew he couldn't change his mind at a moment's notice and go see her. It was so selfish, because he now knew exactly how Touka had felt when he'd left her that day, in a reality that seemed to no longer exist.

If he could go back, if he could tell the Touka who knew him, who loved him, that he took it all back, would she accept that?

He should never have left her.

He should never have let her leave.

"You must be lonely," Kaneki murmured, "up here all by yourself."

"Big brother keeps me company." Hinami offered a tiny shrug, and a smile that did not reach her eyes. It took Kaneki a solid minute to realize she was talking about Hide, and it made him sad. "It only really gets lonely at night, I guess, when I have to sleep."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

He wanted to say what was on his mind. That he'd failed to save her mother twice, that he'd sent Touka off to what could possibly be her demise with espionage work, that he couldn't be here for her like Hide was now because he'd seen the future and he had wrecked it all a hundred times over.

"Your hair is different," Kaneki remarked.

Hinami hummed, pulling at a lock of black hair and glancing at it. Her bangs were so familiarly uneven. "Big sis cut it for me," she explained. "While she was still here."

"It's a little uneven," he said. "Would you like me to fix it?"

Hinami's face lit up, and for the first time since she'd opened the door, she seemed to look a little bit like herself.

The truth was, he knew he couldn't mend the gap he'd made between himself and everyone else. What was so dissatisfying about all his fuck ups was that he had done nothing but stretch his relationships so thin that he'd become nothing but a mere acquaintance to everyone he loved. Seeing Hinami here, like this, so distant and shaken and beyond herself that she knew she could not be herself around him, it made him want to cry.

He realized very quickly that he really was crying.

Hinami, who'd been admiring her new bob in the mirror, leaned over the sink to look at him.

"Kaneki?"

He swiped his eyes furiously with the pad of his thumb.

"So you like the haircut?" he asked, his voice slightly strained against the tightness of his throat.

"I love it." She rocked back on her heels and tilted her head. Black hair slipped gingerly against her rosy cheeks. "We could be siblings now, couldn't we? We look enough alike."

It hurt. This feeling of what had been and what might have been and what would never be.

"We could be siblings," Kaneki agreed wistfully, "in another life."

She stood and watched him, her feet bare against the cool tile. Touka's mark was left upon the bathroom in the way the colors seemed to cool his senses, dial down his stress and remind him who he was and why he was here. He could smell her here, the mix of lavender and sea salt. It was the smell of her hair. The smell of her skin.

"Why did you go to the doves?" Hinami asked suddenly. She did not look at him, but rather, toed the tile, her foot crooked. "You didn't have to. You know that, right? You didn't have to. Anteiku would have helped you."

"Anteiku helps everyone," Kaneki sighed. "I guess… I just thought, who's going to help Anteiku? I don't know, Hinami. It was just a bad idea. I'm just made up of bad ideas upon bad ideas."

"That's not true," she said, raising her eyes. They were huge and watery, beseeching in a way that made him feel like he'd been gutted and he had to struggle to hold himself together. She had an intelligent gaze, so intent and knowing that he wondered if she saw right through him. If she knew what he had done and what he was trying to do.

She'd always been too smart.

Too smart for a world that could not feed her thirst for knowledge.

"It's true enough." Kaneki tore his eyes from hers.

There was something familiar here.

The way she looked at him. The way she made him feel like he needed to take the whole entire world and lift it up on his shoulders so she could pass through it unscathed.

Ah.

He realized now that when he looked at Hinami, it was the same as when he looked at Mutsuki.

All he wanted was to keep these kids safe.

And all he did was hurt them.

His phone buzzed. He checked it quickly, and was relieved to find it was only Hide telling him that Amon had gone on without him. Apparently he was going the headquarters for whatever reason.

"I have to go, Hinami."

"Okay." She didn't even fight it. She'd resigned herself to the idea of him leaving— perhaps before he'd even arrived. Perhaps she had a preconception of his existence, presuming that he existed like all others in her life— just so that he could leave her in the end.

He wished he could stay here forever.

Live in a single moment—wouldn't that just be beautiful?

He wanted to go on and on and on and let the happy moments repeat so that there would never be a bad one.

But in reality, happy moments ended. And between the brief flickers of happiness were grand hollows of empty spaces were the happiness threw itself to die quickly.

"Are you happy, Hinami?" Kaneki asked at the door.

She looked at him. She saw him, and maybe she saw through him.

"I don't know," she replied, "why I shouldn't be. I have people who care about me, still, in spite of everything. That should be enough. Shouldn't it?"

"You're saying you should be happy."

She nodded. She nodded, and she stopped, and she looked away.

"Thank you for visiting," she murmured.

He wanted to express that he was sad too. That he felt the emptiness here, that he wanted to fill it up with life again, but he knew and she knew that the only way that could be done was to return Touka to her home.

And right now, that was simply impossible.

"Goodbye, Hinami."

"Bye bye," she said shyly, waving at him as he turned away. She didn't even meet his eye.

What a rift a little time and a little space and a little change had caused.

So Kaneki left feeling hollower than he had before. Maybe this was an apt punishment for meddling with time.

To lose all the things that he loved, not with any sort of dramatics but with the soft nothings of two people sitting in a quiet room.

"Took your sweet jolly time," Hide teased when Kaneki finally emerged from upstairs. Kaneki glanced at him wearily, and he smiled. Hide smiled back. "What's wrong?"

"Mutsuki's still missing."

"Amon said to check your apartment again. Maybe he's back. Or maybe there's something you missed."

"I totally betrayed his trust, Hide," Kaneki said dully. "If he never came back, I wouldn't blame him."

"Don't be so fucking dramatic, man." Hide scoffed, and he rolled up his rag and whipped the air above Kaneki's head. Kaneki dodged it easily, shooting Hide a disgruntled look. "You need to chill out and stop making this about you. Okay? This is all about Mutsuki, how Mutsuki feels, what Mutsuki wants. If he's back, great. Talk it out. If he's gone, he deserves his space. Everybody wants to run away sometimes."

"And you know who actually does it?" Kaneki smiled, and it felt sharp and thin like a razor slashing open his lips. "People who have been fucked up, and are fucked up now too, so they need to get away and find a place to fuck themselves up some more, and maybe, hopefully, take someone with them."

"Sounds about right." Hide matched his smile, and he leaned over the counter, resting his elbows on the table. "Wanna talk about it, buddy?"

"Not really."

"Then stop making it about you."

Kaneki sighed. Hide was usually right about these things, but something just didn't feel right.

"You're right," Kaneki said. "It's always about me. I never pay attention. I should have seen this coming, right?" He was still holding the box. Touka's note. He was still grasping it for dear life, because maybe it would make this better. "You told me to pay more attention to Mutsuki. You told me. You warned me. But I didn't listen. I don't know how to make this right, because I don't know how to be responsible for anyone, not even myself."

"Now that's not true." Hide winced, and he glanced around the café. It wasn't quite dead, and a customer or two glanced at them curiously. "I didn't mean blame yourself, man."

"I want to be blamed."

"Tone it down, you goddamn masochist," Hide said gently. "Everyone has problems. Not just you. You don't need to take the blame for someone else's issues. You just need to fucking realize that everyone's got something that they're ashamed of. They're not alone, and neither are you, so stop beating yourself up over it and do something about it!"

Kaneki stood and stared, the words colliding with his chest and pounding viciously upon his ribs, as frequent and furious as his heartbeat.

"I'm trying," Kaneki gasped.

"I know you are." Hide stared into his eyes, and Kaneki could see that his crooked smile did not, could not reach them. "But do us all a favor, okay? Give it a rest. You're just one guy, and no matter how much you want to bear it all alone, you know you can't."

"I can try."

"Bad idea."

"You don't know that." Kaneki hugged the box to his chest. "You don't know anything."

"I know you," Hide offered. "Isn't that enough?"

Kaneki chewed on his lower lip, trying to decide what to say next. He didn't want to get angry at Hide, but the truth was that he couldn't stand this. He didn't want to fight, and he didn't want to win. All he wanted was to find Mutsuki. The damage he'd done could not be undone, but he couldn't bear the thought of leaving Mutsuki alone. Not like this.

Not like this.

"Right now, Hide," Kaneki said, "knowing me is just bad luck. What I need is someone who knows Mutsuki."

Hide looked at him, and he laughed, bracing his arms against the counter and letting his head fall with the beat of his laughter.

"Stop laughing." Kaneki had averted his gaze. He felt the vibrations of Hide's laughter in his bones. "What are you laughing for? Stop it."

"I'm laughing at you," Hide gasped, raising his head and grinning. "You're an idiot, y'know that? A real dummy."

It didn't take a rocket scientist to realize this. In fact, Kaneki was sure that he'd been told he was a dumbass a hundred times over. This was not unwarranted. He really did deserve it.

"I guess I deserve that," he admitted.

"You do."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Hide said. "Just understand that you aren't alone. That you don't have to be alone."

"I'm sorry," Kaneki repeated.

Hide straightened up. His spine seemed to snap into place, forcing him upright and at attention like he had been told the date of a funeral. When Kaneki looked into his eyes, he saw only murky depths, brown and endless like a pond covered with dead leaves. He had something to say. He always had something to say.

Why did he never say what was on his mind?

Maybe they were both fools. Tools to a fate of a cruel god's design.

So Kaneki turned away, and he walked out the door.

Because whatever Hide was going to say, it wasn't what he really wanted to say.

Maybe it mattered. Maybe it didn't.

He could only let his feet guide him home. If he stopped, if he stumbled, if he even thought about how much he was breathing, then he might never get up, he might never start again. It was scary to think how his whole life hung in the balance of his unbalanced moods.

Touka's note was fluttering under his thumb. He had to get it to Yoshitoki, so that this alliance could be fully formed and operational. Kaneki also thought about maybe trying to convince him to get a lawyer involved. A legally binding contract officiating Touka's immunity from the CCG would be really nice to have.

As he walked, the black sky seemed to open up for him, and between the smog and fog and clouds and light pollution, he saw the moon on the horizon. Between the gaps in the buildings, huge and waxy and yawning its way up above the city. It was beautiful enough to actually slow his steps, his eyes growing wide in awe of it.

There was still a romantic in him, buried beneath the cynic and the stoic and the manic.

And then the moon was eclipsed by the stretch of skyscrapers, and he remembered that he was not living in a romantic's world with trees that whispered and houses that creaked. He lived where the very ground thrummed, where the buildings were always alive and electric, where being alone was impossible and yet everyone seemed to feel lonely.

Modernists killed the romantics and kicked them into a manhole instead of cutting them up and stuffing them beneath the floorboards.

He found himself exhausted by the time he reached his apartment building. Every step was a chore, and he was tired of this.

If Mutsuki happened to be there when he walked in, what would he say?

I'm sorry, or, I didn't know, or, I wouldn't judge you for who you are, I couldn't, I can't, Mutsuki, please, how could I ever judge, everyone wants to be accepted, or maybe simply just why?

Kaneki's fingers were already digging through his pockets to find his keys by the time his eyes fell upon the object left at the foot of his door.

The box slipped from his hands. Kaneki caught Touka's paper before it fluttered away.

No fucking way.

He crouched down on the balls of his feet, picking the rose up gingerly off the floor. Beneath it was an ornately scripted note written on a piece of paper that probably costed more than Kaneki's entire outfit.

To Kaneki,

It might be a little forward, but you won't mind me borrowing sweet Mutsuki for a night, would you? I promise to save some of him just for you.

Perhaps you and I could have dinner together? I bet he tastes divine.

Tsukiyama Shuu

Kaneki ripped the paper in half. He ripped it again. And again. And again.

He snapped the rose, and as he stood up, he stomped on it, grinding his heel into the petals. He unlocked his door, scooped up the remnants of the rose and his box, and he kicked the door open.

He tossed the torn up note and the rose into the trash.

And then he ripped the box open.

The wrappings and trappings fell away, and he let the box collide with the wooden floor.

His nails bit into the smooth new leather. The mask seemed to wilt in his hands, the smell of it filling up the room and reminding him who he was, what he was, what he had been, what he would be.

Nobody got to escape fate.

Not even a time traveler.

Especially not a time traveler.

"Yo," Touka said breathlessly as she jogged into the meeting room. There were way too many people here right now to see her be so exceptionally late. She skidded to a stop beside Ayato, whose heated glower fueled her bravado. "What'd I miss?"

"Is there a reason you're so late," Tatara asked in his chilly voice, "little Kirishima?"

"Girl's gotta eat, man."

Ayato scoffed beside her, and his eyes shot away. His shoulders had tensed up.

"Is our food not to your satisfaction?"

Touka opened her mouth to retort, but Ayato replied for her.

"Touka has a very particular taste. Let me guess," he said haughtily. "It was some lowlife rapist. Child abuser. Wife beater. Pimp."

Touka's mouth remained open for a startled moment before she clamped it shut, her face reddening in fury and embarrassment.

"What do you know?" she snapped.

"I know you," he taunted her, his voice raising up in a way that she had not heard in years. "Your taste in food is so gross. The scum of the earth tastes like the scum of the earth, you know."

"So maybe I'm doing the earth a favor so their shitty bodies don't contaminate it while they rot," Touka sneered. "You never used to complain when I brought you an extra helping of rapist's arm for dinner, asshole. Let me eat what I want."

"You're too soft."

"Have you two had enough?" Tatara cut in. They both jumped, glancing at each other worriedly. Perhaps they both sensed that they were messing up. Tatara leaned forward, watching them both with a mix of curiosity and impatience. When they didn't respond, he nodded. "Good. Now, you two are going to work together."

"No," Ayato said without missing a goddamn beat. "No way."

"That wasn't a question, Ayato," Tatara said coolly. "It was an order. Touka has yet to prove herself as an asset, and you know the ropes. This mission is for both of you. Understood?"

Touka, who was partly irritated and partly thrilled, was able to contain her rage. "Yes," she said, elbowing Ayato sharply when he opened his mouth to retort. "We understand. What's the mission?"

She swore if she tore that mask off his face, Tatara would be smirking.

Later, she felt her brother shuffling at her side, his breath misting through the grates of his mask.

"What an ugly mask."

"Uta asked me to ask you if you'd model." Touka felt weighed down by her jacket right now. It was eerily similar to Ayato's. "Maybe it was inspired by you."

"Oh, shut up." Ayato's eyes scrunched up. She could not see the lower part of his face. "He did not."

"He literally did. Why don't you head over to Hysy and ask, huh, stupid?"

"Fuck off," he growled, shoving her nearly out of the alley and into the street. "Stupid sister."

He still called her aneki. How fucking sweet.

It sounded like a mouthful of sawdust being coughed out.

They were stalking the city like criminals. Hoods up, masks on, fists clenched, eyes sharp. They knew these streets, these steps, this dance of tip toes and crawls, and they knew each other here in this element better than anyone else.

They'd grown up to this song. Moving to this melody.

"Do you know where we're going?"

"Bitch, I actually have experience here." Ayato's eyes flashed to her disdainfully. "Back up. Follow me. And for once, shut the fuck up."

"I know what reconnaissance means, bro," she said icily. "Never thought it your style, though."

"Guess you don't know me very well."

"Bitch," she said, mimicking his tone, "I raised you."

"Bitch," he replied, "you did a shitty job."

"Oh," she said in a faux sweet voice, "I know."

"Ugh." Ayato yanked his hood up higher over his head. "Seriously, shut up. You're so annoying."

"I'm annoying?"

"Yes!"

"You are literally the most infuriating person, I swear to fucking god, and I work in customer service!"

"Boo hoo." He stomped ahead of her, acting far too noisy for someone who was supposed to be going about stealthily. He paused, and he glanced at her. "You don't work there anymore. Aogiri is where you work now. Fucking remember that."

"Ooh, shit, man," Touka said bluntly, "I can't believe I fucked up my tenses. Guess I better just lie down in front of a bus."

"I'm serious." Ayato's eyes were glinting white in the gleam of the streetlamps. "Aogiri wants you. I don't know why, but you have everyone's interest, and if you fuck up, they're going to fuck you up. I'd say go home, but you're already in too deep."

"I've been here for like a week."

Ayato stared at her. He huffed in frustration and whirled around. "Forget it! You're so simple minded, you wouldn't even understand!"

"The fuck?" She jogged to catch up with him. "Says who? What's going on?"

"It's not important," Ayato grumbled. "Let's just focus on the mission. We're looking for a lady. I've seen her before, so that's not a problem—"

"Am I in danger here?" Touka asked impulsively. Ayato paused mid-step. He looked at her like she'd stepped on a landmine.

"If you're in any sort of danger," he spat, "it's your own damn fault."

Touka exhaled sharply. She glanced around, and cautiously she pushed her mask back.

"Ayato," she said softly. "I need to know. Is it Yamori?"

"Yamori," he hissed, "Tatara, Noro, Eto— what's the difference? They all see you the same way."

"And how is that?"

"Like a pretty new doll that they can dress up, manipulate, and pull apart." Ayato stared into her eyes, and she saw the fire there, the fury and the disgust.

This was why he'd wanted her to go home.

"Is that how they treat you?" she asked.

"No." Ayato looked away sharply. "I'm not soft like you. I don't love anything, or maybe I don't know how, and they all know it. Maybe we're all the same. I don't know."

"You're not like that," Touka said heatedly.

He looked at her. The shadows from the street lamp were seeping into the alley, contouring his face and making him look ill. His eyes were dipped, sunken, bruised.

"You don't know me at all," he said.

The building was like a warehouse. Ayato showed them some kind of fancy slip of paper at the door, and they let them through. Immediately upon entering Touka knew they were gonna stick out sorely. With their weather beaten faux fur trimmed jackets and their fingerless gloves and their black baggy pants and their scarves that made them look vaguely homeless. And maybe they were.

They wore muddy, scraped up combat boots while other ghouls wore six inch heels.

"Well," Touka said, sliding her hands into her pockets. "This is awkward."

"Only if you make it awkward," he hissed, striding forward and shrugging off his coat. He handed it off to some man in a suit. "We have a reservation."

"Of course. And it's under…?"

"Tree."

The man seemed to pause and give them a once over. Whatever he thought of them, he dismissed it, and led them to a table overlooking what appeared to be an arena.

Touka didn't like the way this was going.

"Miss, may I take your coat?" the man asked before she sat down.

She froze up. Ayato had let him take his, but Ayato hadn't condensed his entire wardrobe into a single backpack. If he wanted a new coat he could just steal it off a corpse. Honestly, Touka didn't doubt that was where all his clothes came from. She knew that old trick. Hell, she'd taught it to him.

She didn't plan on stealing any dead people coats.

"I'll keep it," she said stiffly. "Thanks."

The man watched her warily. Ayato glanced at her sharply, and then he waved the guy off.

"You," he sneered, "are shitty at this."

"I only have one coat."

"I'll get you a new one."

"So sweet," she told him coolly. "Like I asked for a dead guy's coat."

"Oh, fuck off," he spat, sinking into his seat.

"Ask how I knew," she said. "Just ask."

"Hell no."

"Just ask."

"Shut up."

"I knew," she said airily, "because you smell like something rotting."

"I'm gonna wring your neck, I swear."

"You and everyone else, apparently." She leaned back in her chair. "Who doesn't want to kill me or maim me or just straight up emotionally fuck me over?"

"I don't think I know enough people to give that a decent guess," Ayato admitted.

Touka actually laughed at that.

Ayato watched her. His eyes narrowed a little. Perhaps he couldn't tell what she was laughing about, or maybe the sound was just suspicious to him.

Or maybe he'd just forgotten what her laughter had sounded like.

"Oh shit, there she is," Ayato gasped. He jumped to his feet, and Touka twisted to follow his gaze. She couldn't, so she stood as well. And suddenly they were pushing through the gathering crowd of ghouls, moving swiftly to a rail that over looked the steel trapped arena.

"There," Ayato said breathlessly, clamping his hands around the smooth silver railing. "Good. We're right across from her."

"Who?" Touka rested her elbows against the rail casually. She searched the other side of the arena curiously.

"Red dress, blonde buns. Hard to miss, she's so gaudy."

"They're all gaudy."

"Right?" Ayato sniffed, and he leaned up against the rail. "I hate these missions. If they wanted someone who could blend in here, they should have sent Yamori."

"That'd be a mess," Touka said.

"Probably, but it'd be amusing to watch him come back with a few heads, you know?" Ayato might have been grinning. "With the jewels still hanging on 'em?"

Touka snorted. It was a comedic image, that was for sure.

"This would be neat if it were like ghoul boxing ring or something," she said. "A ghoul fight club."

"I'd fight you first," he muttered.

"Um, at a hand to hand fight?" Touka tossed her head, and she adjusted her mask. "Yeah right."

"Yomo taught me as much as you."

"Yomo taught me way more because I still talk to him," Touka reminded. "Brat."

"Why would I keep in touch?" Ayato rested his chin on his folded arms. "He's why we got stuck at Anteiku in the first place. If he hadn't told the old man—"

"We would have gotten caught by the doves," Touka cut in sharply. "You and I were reckless and cruel. We didn't care about who we hurt, or if it hurt us. We just wanted to cause chaos."

"Hm." He was probably scowling beneath the mask, if his shadowy eyes were anything to go by. "Guess nothing's changed."

A chill shot through her.

"No," she murmured. "I guess it hasn't."

A voice breezed through the air.

"Good evening everyone!" From across the arena, she spotted him. He was near their target, wearing his ugly ass mask and making flourishing gestures. As the announcer spoke, the arena's floor began to open. "Tonight's dinner is these three people!"

"Holy shit," Touka growled. "I should have fucking figured."

"What?" Ayato asked, blinking between her and Tsukiyama Shuu. "He's not important. Focus on Madam A."

Touka gritted her teeth. Easy for him to say. Tsukiyama had never flirted with him.

Tsukiyama began talking about the food below, which Touka did not want to think about. She couldn't save them. There were casualties to this operation, and she knew that, and she figured Kaneki and his boss did too.

Well, maybe not Kaneki.

Kaneki would probably just try to save them all on the spot, if she'd pegged his personality right.

Touka kind of wanted to meet this mysterious higher up that Kaneki was in cahoots with.

"And also, today's main course is a strange meat… a ghoul."

Touka looked sharply at Tsukiyama. Whispers had sprung up all around them about cannibalism, cannibalism, so bad, so scary. Touka wondered if Tsukiyama had anyone check out his mental health lately.

And then she actually looked down into the arena.

And then she realized how fucked she actually was.

Tsukiyama was standing up. Oh, shit, what was she supposed to do?

Because down below, hunched over, his arms wrapped around his stomach tightly, was Mutsuki Tooru.

"Ladies and gentleman, it's not unreasonable to feel bewildered," Tsukiyama said, his voice booming across the ghoul restaurant. Touka was stretching herself as far as she could over the rail. If she could maybe just… get Mutsuki's attention…

Why did she care? The boy was nothing to her.

Tsukiyama went on and on about ghoul meat, and how Mutsuki was different or something. He just stood there, frozen like a statue. As Tsukiyama passed a handkerchief around, Touka watched Mutsuki fall to his knees.

She felt sick to her stomach.

"This asshole," she spat.

"What?" Ayato raised his head from the rail, and he cocked it back at her. "Not having fun? Welcome to recon. It's the worst."

"Oh, I don't care about that." She was seething. Her whole body was rippling with tension. Because she was remembering now. Why she cared so much.

Mutsuki was sweet, and he was kind, and he would never have come with Tsukiyama willingly.

There was a difference between stupidity and kidnapping.

"Unfortunately I ran into some trouble while getting him here," Tsukiyama was saying in an animated speech about Mutsuki's flavoring or whatever. "While he's worked up a sweat today, he's running on an empty stomach. Tonight we will serve his arms and legs specifically, because they have the most meat on them."

Somebody shouted from the audience, "What about the buttocks?"

"Not tonight, I'm afraid," Tsukiyama laughed.

Mutsuki seemed to shrink more and more as she looked down at him.

"That guy," Touka said, jerking a thumb over the rail, "is Tsukiyama."

"Ew," Ayato blurted, his face wrinkling in absolute disgust beneath his mask. His eyes grew wide, and he glanced over at the other side of the arena. "Fuck. I thought his voice sounded familiar. Oh my god, fuck this. Let's go."

"What?" Touka watched Ayato turn away. She snatched him by the arm. "You're walking away from this?"

"I hate that guy."

"So do I," she gasped. "Which is why I'm surprised you're running away from this opportunity."

He turned back very slowly. His brow was furrowed behind the hesitant curl of his bangs. "I'm listening," he said.

"We turn this show into some real entertainment." She jumped as the arena began to shake. A door was opening, possibly from beneath them. The announcer had just introduced a scrapper. "What do you say, little brother? Think you're up for a rematch?"

He actually paused to consider it. That shocked her. The fact that he needed to think about maybe exacting vengeance for Tsukiyama being such a prick back in the day.

"We'd blow our covers and the mission," he admitted.

"It's just recon on that lady. Well, we've seen what we needed to see, right? Wasn't the scrapper it? That's what I got from the debriefing." Touka gestured over the rail, albeit nervously, at the hulking figure below them. Mutsuki had not risen from the floor yet. "I'll disarm and knock it out. Sound fair? You can do whatever you want with it to report back with. But I want to fight him, and I want to do it now."

"What about the humans?"

Why is he thinking so much, Touka thought wildly. He never thinks this much before getting into a fight.

"The only thing more satisfying than beating Tsukiyama," Touka said fiercely, "would be to ruin his meal."

The sound of sawing and screaming filled the air, and Touka lurched at the rail. She saw that Mutsuki was still there, but he'd jumped to his feet and skittered back. His hands were over his mouth. Maybe to keep from screaming.

"Hurry up and decide!" Touka cried, shoving Ayato harshly. "Yes or no?"

"I have to think," he gasped.

"He nearly took your leg off, and you actually have to think about getting back at him?" Touka scoffed. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I really don't know you at all."

He glanced at her. The anger in his eyes made them wide. And then they were black, his sclera transforming and his irises burning red.

"Okay," he rasped. "Let's fuck him up."

Touka grinned, but she knew he couldn't see it.

They were already falling flat when it came to saving the other humans. One guy was already dead, and the woman was running around while Mustuki struggled to figure out what to do. Was this kid really a ghoul investigator? He sure as hell didn't act like it.

"Taro," sang Madam A from across the arena. "Taro, run!"

Touka frankly didn't give a shit about anyone else in the arena. The only important one was Mutsuki.

The woman who was running away fell flat on her face. The announcer called it poison, and the crowd began to chatter excitedly, rumbling about how she hadn't showered, how the scrapper wasn't following directions as it threw the woman onto a grill.

Mutsuki moved.

Touka watched, frozen for a moment in shock, as Mutsuki tore a knife from behind his back and skidded like a baseball player, one leg beneath his knee as he slashed the back of Taro's legs open.

Taro howled and wobbled and half fell onto the grill. The sound of sizzling flesh filled the arena, and Taro's screams grew into wails.

"Now's our chance," Touka gasped. "You want to take the scrapper?"

"Madam A is still my target," Ayato sighed. "So I guess I'll just go for it. You taking the ghoul?"

"Yep." She climbed up onto the rail, her boots wobbling against every steel rod. Still, she balanced easily on top of it, towering over everyone. And all the ghouls around her seemed to sense something. Perhaps her rage was more palpable than she'd realized.

She met Tsukiyama's eye.

Suddenly he was leaning forward, his mouth opening in a strange, exhilarated smile.

Fuck that.

She cocked her head. Her hair skittered against her mask. She flipped him off, and let that settle in for a few seconds before she dove from the railing and into the arena.

Everyone was suddenly silent.

Taro was wobbling around, sniffling and groaning. "Ma…" the scrapper grunted. "Ma…"

Mutsuki was backing away, his one visible eye darting around the arena. He spotted her, and he raised his knife suddenly in a reverse grip. It looked like a razor in his fist. As she came closer, she realized it was the same knife he'd threatened her with a mere few weeks before.

"Hey," she said, holding up her hands. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Mutsuki's jaw was set and his eye was narrowed and he gripped the knife tighter.

Touka came closer and closer. She ignored Taro, who was lumbering toward them. "You know me," she hissed, trying to keep her words from the masses. "Mutsuki, let me help you."

Perhaps he recognized her voice, because he cautiously began to lower his knife. He squinted at her, and he blinked. "Touka…?" he whispered. She was just close enough to hear it.

When she nodded, Mutsuki's shoulders shuddered. He lowered his knife completely, and he took a deep breath. Then his eye widened.

"Watch out!" he cried, as a saw came down on her from behind. It hit her shoulder, and she listened to it dent. She grabbed it and yanked it away from the scrapper. Her hand became sticky with blood.

"Uh oh," she sneered, crushing the saw in her fist. "Broke your toy. Why don't you go crying back to your mama before I break you?"

She kicked him, and he went skidding back across the floor and into a wall. When Taro struggled to get up, Ayato finally decided to swoop down and deliver a strong, deliberate kick into Taro's skull.

Madam A was shrieking something. The crowd was drowning her out.

"What's going on," Mutsuki gasped. He took Touka's arm, and she felt the urge to shake him off, but she saw how badly he was shaking and now she could feel it too. "Are you really going to help me?"

She didn't want to tell him that she didn't have a plan beyond this. Maybe she could consult Ayato about how to get him out of here.

"Yes," she said. She was astonished when he visually relaxed, and his head began to lower. And lower. And lower.

His forehead rested on her shoulder, and she could feel his ragged breathing.

"Don't get hurt because of me," he gasped. "This is my fault. This is my—!"

"Did you come here willingly?" Touka snapped at him.

His whole body stiffened. He didn't respond. So she pushed him.

"Did you?" she asked, gripping him by the shoulders. "Did you willingly come here with Tsukiyama?"

"No," Mutsuki whispered. There were tears in his visible eye. "I just wanted to go home."

Touka relaxed. Her grip lessened on his shoulders, and she stared into his eye, forcing him to stare back through the crescent moons that revealed her gaze.

"Then this is not your fault," she said. "So don't beat yourself up over it. Just focus on surviving, okay?"

His eye was watery, and his face was a little red, but he nodded.

"Okay," he croaked.

"Well," Ayato sighed, dragging Taro by the leg as he approached them. "We fucked up. I can't wait to explain this one."

"It's not over yet," Touka said, her eyes shooting up to meet Tsukiyama's. He didn't look enraged. Just surprised, and maybe a little excited. "You think you can keep up with me, bro?"

"Ha," Ayato barked, a certain amount of delight pouring into the biting tone. "Like you could ever be faster than me. You're a tortoise compared to a hare."

"You fucked up that parable, buddy," she said. "The tortoise wins and the hare loses. Slow and steady wins the race."

"Shut the fuck up."

Mutsuki looked between them with a wide eye.

"Yo!" Ayato snarled, jerking a finger up at the platform that housed Tsukiyama. "I've got a bone to pick with you, Mr. MM." He said it so tauntingly, so derisively, that it'd get under anyone's skin. Hell, it got under Touka's, and she hated Tsukiyama.

"Is that right?" Tsukiyama had bristled as he stood. He jumped down, bouncing from table to table. "Well that just won't do! What could I possibly have done to upset you?"

"Jeez," Touka muttered. "He says it like he's not the most unpleasant person ever."

"This bastard is delusional," Ayato said flatly. "I want to make it so he can never smile again."

"Or maybe so he can never talk again," Touka suggested.

"Hell," Ayato hissed, "why not both?"

"That's the spirit."

"Um…" Mutsuki pointed with his knife. "What… are you two planning on doing?"

"Stay out of this, brat," Ayato snapped at him. "Just stand back and hope you don't get hit."

"What?" Mutsuki squeaked.

"Ayato, we should get him out of here," Touka suggested. "We don't want Tsukiyama to have him."

"Ugh. We can deal with that after we deal with him." Ayato cracked his knuckled, his neck craning to stare up at Tsukiyama. "I'm so done with this asshole."

"Ah…" Touka couldn't really blame him. She turned to look at Mutsuki. "Do you think you can stay out of the way of the fight?"

He looked completely uncertain. Utterly shocked and unsure. But he nodded.

"You're good," Touka murmured. She reached up and ruffled his hair thoughtlessly. "You're a good kid."

And then Tsukiyama dropped down, his head tilted, his lips spread in a wide smile.

"You didn't answer me!" he sang, throwing out his arms. "Why are you angry with me? I can't say I know you two."

"Okay, Mutsuki," Touka whispered. "Get as far back as you can."

"Right!"

The moment he left her side, she lowered her chin and angled her shoulders. Ayato did the same, mirroring her every movement.

Tsukiyama paused to take a good look at them. His arms lowered very slowly. His mouth opened, and a short, disbelieving laugh fell out.

"I don't believe this," he gasped. "Is it really you two? My oh my oh my! Ayato, you've grown up so much I barely recognized you! Ah, you've gotten so handsome— truly, you siblings are a sight to behold. And you, Kirishima…" Tsukiyama's gloved finger dragged through the air as he looked her up and down. It made her feel nauseous. He had a gaze that suggested that he was never seeing what was on the surface, and not in a pensive way. No, he looked at people and imagined what they would look like stripped naked, cold, afraid, and probably at his mercy. "You only grow more and more stunning each day."

"You are disgusting."

"For real," Ayato grumbled, shaking his shoulders as if he was shrugging off a chill. "Why does every fucking word out of your mouth sound like sexual harassment?"

Tsukiyama's expression fell. At least what they could see of it.

"Excuse me?" he asked coolly. "I don't know what you mean."

"Holy shit, you are delusional!" Ayato sneered.

"You're not charming, Tsukiyama," Touka said dully, her shoulder lining up with Ayato's. "You're just creepy."

And with that, both their kagunes burst from their shoulders at once, unfurling like three cohesive masses, bright and red and spitting at the air like fire. Their wings were stained glass against an open flame, constantly moving, constantly thriving, needing, aching to beat the air into submission. Touka felt Ayato at her side by the heat of his kagune, by the light it emitted, and it moved in a familiar way that made her fall into old tunes, move to old steps.

They didn't even need to look at each other to understand what their next move was.

Tsukiyama probably saw their double attack coming, which was why Touka pulled back at the last minute and dashed behind him. When he'd moved to slide out of the way from her and Ayato's kagune, she managed to catch him by the arms. A wing sliced into his shoulder, and her knee collided with his back.

"Nice," Ayato breathed as she kicked Tsukiyama into a wall. "You thought ahead."

"That attack can't work on the same person twice," Touka replied. "Come on."

"I knew that," Ayato huffed.

"Sure." And maybe he did. Because he had not missed a beat in conforming to her strategy.

"Okay," Tsukiyama exhaled shakily, dusting himself off. "Now… now you two are getting annoying. I'll play your little game, but you don't get to take my precious dinner."

"He's not yours to have," Touka snapped.

"Why are you so fucking gross?" Ayato stepped forward as Tsukiyama shrugged. "Ugh, it's sadists like you who play with their food that really piss me off. Like if you're gonna eat then eat, but you act like you're entitled to something!"

Touka was surprised by him, her eyes flickering sharply to his face, searching it for sincerity. And she saw that he was sincerely pissed.

Maybe her little brother wasn't so far gone after all.

Touka backtracked, listening as the crowd grew restless, murmurings flooding her skull and burrowing under her skin. The cheered Tsukiyama on, spitting vulgarities at them, crowing for their heads to be manually removed from their spines.

Ayato moved. He was speed incarnate, like the wind of a monsoon colliding with Tsukiyama and taking him down before scaling back and sending a barrage of flechettes. Tsukiyama barely dodged the bulk of them, looking pained and disgruntled. He plucked the glistening red shards from his leg and bicep, hissing as he smoothed his hair out of his face.

"You two are testing my patience," he said.

"Good," Touka snapped, pushing off the ground and bouncing from the wall, sending her own flechette attack as Ayato maneuvered through it. His fist smashed into Tsukiyama's jaw in a fierce uppercut. She dropped from the wall and into a roll, kneeling down and watching Ayato's fist rain down again and again. She noted Tsukiyama's stance.

"Shit," she gasped, springing upright and dashing forward. She caught Ayato around the waist, and they both collapsed against the ground, Tsukiyama's kagune slicing the air where Ayato's abdomen had been. Ayato shoved her harshly.

"I was fine," he gasped.

"He was going to skewer you." She leapt to her feet, dragging him with her. He shoved her so hard she went flying onto her back, her kagune fluttering around her.

"I don't need you to protect me!" he snapped.

"Now, now, Ayato," Tsukiyama cooed. "You should be kinder to your sister!"

Touka bolted upright at the sound of a smack. Ayato stumbled in shock, dodging the second punch and blocking the third. He swept his kagune up, sending it slicing down, but Tsukiyama simply deflected it and kicked Ayato into a wall.

"Touka!" Through the din of the cheering ghouls around them, Mutsuki's voice was the one clear sound. He helped her to her feet, and she held his shoulder as she looked at Tsukiyama. He was watching her right back.

"Guess it's finally a real fight," she muttered. "Mutsuki, stay out of it, okay?"

"I…" He gripped her bicep tightly. "I feel so useless…"

"You'll feel even more useless if you end up getting hurt and dragging us down," she gasped, tearing her arm from his hand. "Stay far away. As far as you can. Okay?"

"Y-yes…"

Touka stared at him. There was fear in his eyes, but also a desperate sort of need to attack, a determination of a strong mind in a weak body. She knew that look. She wished she could help him more.

But she didn't have the fucking time.

So she took his hand, squeezed it tight, and then jumped back into the fray.

She ended up dashing in front of Tsukiyama, ducking his slicing kagune and punching him in the stomach. He made a satisfying choking sound, buckling and allowing her to get another good punch in. He kicked her, his heel digging into her shoulder and sending her flying. She managed to land on her feet, but she wobbled, her kagune guttering. She'd run out of steam before they could finish this fight.

Ayato took her place, his kagune swinging around restlessly, slicing and swishing and slashing away at the air around Tsukiyama. He wasn't doing anything fancy with his kagune, which was unlike Ayato. The one thing she knew for sure about Ayato was that he was powerful, and he needed the world to know.

So whatever he was doing, he was holding back.

Ayato kicked Tsukiyama in the face, and Tsukiyama retaliated, catching Ayato's sleeve and bringing him down. They were both on the floor, and Touka ran for them, watching Tsukiyama's kagune glint as he knicked Ayato's arm. Ayato managed to squirm away, skidding back and scaling the wall. He sent another barrage of flechettes, forcing Touka to fling herself out of the way in order not to get caught in the storm.

Everyone in the audience went wild with shrieks. Pained, scared shrieks.

Touka paused to look up. All the ghouls were running in different directions, and with every moment that passed the shrieks grew louder.

There was a sound. She knew it well, the swish and squish and squelch.

Cut and rip and chomp.

Someone up there was killing and eating and killing and eating.

This had taken a bad turn.

She glanced back at Mutsuki, who must have noticed, because he was scanning the upper floors.

Touka bolted forward as Tsukiyama skidded across the ground, landing near Mutsuki. The boy had stumbled back, but Tsukiyama saw him and jumped to his feet.

"Hey!" Touka shouted. "Let go of him!"

Mutsuki shrieked as Tsukiyama caught him around the waist and dragged him back.

"Why are you interfering," Tsukiyama gasped, "when this means nothing to you? I know you. I know how you hate to get involved. Why do you care?"

"Because…" Touka had to stop. She saw the fear in Mutsuki's eye. "Because I do. Because you can't treat people like you're entitled to them!"

"But I want what I want," Tsukiyama said, "and if I want it, I'll take it."

Mutsuki's scream was a mixture of shock and pain as Tsukiyama pried his shirt away from his shoulder and he closed his teeth around the thin brown skin. Touka lurched forward, but Mutsuki ended up reacting faster. He stabbed Tsukiyama's arm first, and when he stumbled back, Mutsuki stabbed him again in the stomach.

Ayato swept in and kicked Tsukiyama into the floor, allowing Mutsuki to stumble back dazedly blood staining the white button down. He collided into Touka, and she held him gingerly.

"Why did this happen…?" he whispered, resting his cheek against her shoulder, his nose half buried in the faux fur lined jacket. "I just… I just wanted to go home…"

"You'll go home soon, Mutsuki," she replied as softly as she could beneath the great cacophony of screams around them.

"Why didn't you just let me die?" Her neck was wet. He was crying now. She could feel his eyelashes against her neck, and she realized he must have lost his eyepatch in the fray. "It would have been easier for you."

"No," she said quietly. She awkwardly pushed him back, and she reached up, brushing his tears away. It felt weird and foreign, like someone else was moving. Someone else was caring. "A fight is easy. There always is… and there always will be… some kind of fight in me. But standing by and watching you suffer? That's hard."

His eyes were mismatched, one black and glowing, one doe-eyed and dull, but they both were huge and watery nonetheless.

And somehow, he managed to smile at her.

"You're a good person," he whispered, touching her mask. "It's not fair. It's cruel that we hunt you."

"That's just how it is." She took his hand and pulled it from her mask. "Are you okay? Can you walk?"

"Y-yeah." He nodded firmly. "Yes. I can."

"Then get away from here."

"Okay…" His tearful face was somewhat serene as he backed away from her. The fact that he had not panicked was jarring. He was not like most humans. He could handle pain. He could handle misery. He could handle pressure, if the whole world was on fire with him.

She put her focus back on Tsukiyama. He'd gotten a new spring to his step, his blows faster, more precise, and Ayato was struggling attack and block at the same time. As they moved, their feet seemed to guide them, fast, frequent steps, like a waltz around a death chamber.

Ayato glanced at Mutsuki, and he fell short.

"One eye…?" Ayato gasped in mild shock. He had faltered, even for just a second. It was enough.

Touka leapt forward, reaching for Ayato's shoulders to push him away.

A great shudder of pain ran through her.

Why was that?

She gritted her teeth. Right. Right, right, right.

So she must have intercepted Tsukiyama's attack. So his kagune must have caught her. It felt familiar, being stabbed in the gut. Except this was different. Had Tsukiyama really skewered her all the way through? She had to look down to see how deeply imbedded the kagune was.

Shit.

This would not heal fast.

She felt a feeling building up inside her, a laugh bubbling in her chest. She let it go.

Blood fell from her lips in a burst.

Tsukiyama tore his kagune from her stomach, and he flicked her blood off.

"That wasn't meant for you," Tsukiyama said in an almost remorseful tone. She couldn't hear him too well. She blinked wildly.

Suddenly she was falling. She was falling, and her vision swam, and she couldn't catch herself before she hit the ground.

But someone else did.

Chapter Text

Repeating past mistakes was a little like getting lost on the way to a place you've known since childhood.

There really was no excuse for why it happened.

It just happened. Place the blame wherever it may fall, because it was going to happen.

And there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

Kaneki found himself clutching Touka in his bloodstained hands, his chest rising and falling in rapid huffs. He didn't remember leaping down here. He hardly remembered anything beyond killing the doorman and seeing the fight ensuing below in the arena. Something in him had snapped, something that had been stretched and bent and gnawed at for weeks upon weeks upon months.

His mind was crumbling, and he felt the surge that came with that, the energy that thudded through him, the inexplicable need to move and move and move, eat and eat and eat, even though he was so fucking tired, even though all he wanted was to lie down and let the earth gather around him, soil layering over and over and over until it was three thousand years from now, and the excavators found his bones.

He was dizzy and sick with his own horrible power.

He was so awful. He was so fucking awful, and he loved it. He loved every fucking minute of it.

How deranged was that?

Because he knew this high would end, and he knew that the underlying thread of exhaustion would weave itself into a heavy blanket. He would not be able to stop it from enveloping him.

All in all, he would be tired, and he would hate himself.

It was already starting to happen. He was sipping on the dregs of his high, the energy from the massacre he'd just initiated spiking as the regret settled in, heaviness dropping into his stomach and leaving him feeling bloated and nauseous.

He'd eaten.

He'd eaten, and now he felt his body grumble and rumble and turn against him.

Eat and be eaten. That was the cycle he'd thrown himself into.

Kaneki teetered, blood trickling against the maw of the white leather mask fastened on his face. He watched Touka grimace in his arms, her hands folding over her eyes and her breaths becoming labored and quick. He didn't know what to do with this.

He didn't think he could hold her right now. Not right now.

If there was anything for certain, it was that Kaneki was capable of tearing everything and everyone apart.

There was a far off cry of rage, something strange and pained as it tore through the air. Suddenly the air was being sucked from their lungs, and wings were becoming a whirlwind, and Kaneki stepped back and watched Ayato let his wings rain fire upon Tsukiyama.

Kaneki had to take a moment.

Eat and eat and eat.

He wanted more.

He needed more.

He had to beat Tsukiyama.

Suddenly he was dropping to his knees, Touka falling across his lap. A reverse Pieta.

Eat and eat and eat.

More and more and more!

Why had he done this?

He didn't want this!

How had he let this happen again? He was out of control, out of his head, out of his body, and oh the ache, oh the mistake, oh the blood and the guts and the bones.

Oh, the stars.

All he could see was stars, and all he wanted was to pluck them from the sky and place them on his tongue.

His fingers itched toward Touka's mask. It was a beautiful thing, so elegant and delicate compared to her rabbit mask.

The impulse was quelled by her shuddering groan.

Kaneki pushed her off his lap and skittered away, his fingers drawing red lines down the cheek of his mask, drawing between the zipper and stuffed between his teeth. He gnawed on them, a barely containing a scream.

And then he really did scream.

He arched his back, and then he hunched over, and he screamed into his hands.

He didn't want this!

Oh, oh, oh! The stars, the blood, the moon, the guts, the sun, the bones, and oh, the mistakes.

Oh, the mistakes.

He could cast himself from the highest tower in all of time and all of space and it would not make this feeling ease.

Oh, oh, oh.

He could die again, and it would be a kinder fate than this harsh creeping, itching, salivating, creaking, inching state.

Ghoul meat reduced him to an insect.

A glorified fucking worm.

He felt so worn out all of a sudden.

The screaming had stopped.

He pulled his finger from his mouth, strings of red tinted saliva tied to his hands. His lips quivered, and he blinked rapidly, the whole entire world freezing at once. He licked his lips, the residual tang of ghoul blood fizzling up his brain, and he exhaled shakily.

His thoughts. They were in shambles. Yes, they were, they were, but…

Less so now.

Yes, they were. But.

Less so now.

It was all a slow drag down, a fucking spiral that led him into a room filled with water, and he just let it fall into his mouth a fill up his lungs because he was so fucking tired.

So tired.

So goddamn tired!

I'm broken, I'm breaking, I've never been whole to begin with, and now it's all falling apart, my brain, my body, my will. He took a deep, shuddering breath. And a laugh fell out.

What a fucking joke!

He! Kaneki Ken! Was the greatest fucking joke to ever grace this fucking planet!

Ha! Ha ha ha ha!

He staggered to his feet, and the world seemed to twist and shake and dance with him.

"Move," he said dully, his fingers plucking Ayato up by the back of his shirt and tossing him away. "Help your sister. This is not your fight."

His wings and caught him, grazed him, and Kaneki's fingers were shredded. He glanced at them.

Tsukiyama was breathing heavy, his grin plastered on his face as he adjusted his stance. His eyes were alight.

"Hello," he greeted breathlessly, tossing his sweaty hair out of his eyes. "You seem familiar. Have we met before?"

Kaneki licked his lips. He sucked on the blood leaking from his fingers. The wounds were sealing up quickly.

He zipped up his mouth, and he tilted his chin back.

Have we met before?

Kaneki could play this game forever and never get it right.

"I," Kaneki said in a soft, booming, quivering, steadfast voice, "regret."

Tsukiyama's eyes were bright, curiosity luminous in the way he watched Kaneki's feet drag across the floor lethargically.

"Ahh…?" His kagune shifted as he offered up his arms. "And what, pray tell, do you regret?"

Kaneki's feet clipped against the stone. He'd thrown on a pair of boots, the only ones he currently owned. Jeans. A black zip up sweater. The hood was gathered close to his ears. His hair was like feathers, inky and unkempt. Too long now, too tangled and messy to manage. It bunched around his ears and small waves.

He lifted his head, and he let it tilt sadly.

"Oh," he sighed, "everything."

And then he let his kagune unspool from his back in four slithering limbs.

Tsukiyama looked beyond delighted.

"You!" He jerked forward. "You got my message! Oh, this really quite the development, I wasn't prepared at all! Ah, where did Mutsuki go…?"

Kaneki pushed off the ground and attempted an aerial attack that composed of two limbs keeping Tsukiyama's kagune at bay while the other two struck at his left shoulder. Tsukiyama had difficulty springing away, his shoulder getting caught by the edge of one of the limbs. When Tsukiyama whirled around, Kaneki kicked off his back and landed in a roll. He leapt to his feet, his kagune curling around him.

"I," Kaneki said shakily, "have gone through too much for you to ruin it with your fucking arrogance, Tsukiyama."

"I'm not sure what you mean!"

Blows were exchanged, purple and red smearing as they moved about in a dance of one two three, one two three, a waltz that was not meant to bear any positive results. Kaneki spun, his kagune swishing and stabbing and colliding and leaving lacerations on Tsukiyama's cheek, on his side, on his leg. When Tsukiyama retaliated, the force was brute and it was slow and it had too much angling and too much polishing and Kaneki could ease his way out with a twist and a kick and a punch in the jaw.

"Nothing I say will ever get through to you," Kaneki hissed, snatching Tsukiyama by the shirt when the punch sent him shooting back. His head snapped, a sharp groan escaping his lips, and he grimaced. "Listen to me carefully. I will kill you. Maybe today, maybe someday in the near future. Maybe because I want to, or maybe because I was ordered to. I can't protect you, and I don't want to!" He flung Tsukiyama into a wall, watching him spin and try and catch himself.

He ended up skidding and smashing into it anyway.

"I forgot how fucked up you really are," Kaneki said coolly, stepping quickly, deliberately towards Tsukiyama's hunched form. "Hey, asshole. Hey. Are you fucking listening yet? Hey." Kaneki's whole body was rippling with tension.

Oh, oh, oh.

He could really kill this friend of his.

Tsukiyama glanced up, blood seeping from his hairline and skittering into his brow.

"Yes," he gasped, a plainly excited smile playing on his lips. "I am hanging on every word you say."

"Good." Kaneki used an inordinate amount of force to kick Tsukiyama across the face. He was punted halfway across the arena. "Hey. Hey!" Kaneki used his kagune to throw himself at the ground before Tsukiyama's face. As the man tried to push himself up, Kaneki kicked his face back down into the stone floor. "You don't get to stand. You don't deserve it, you piece of trash. Shit. Fuck. I hate you. Right now, I hate you, and I want to kill you. I should kill you."

"Just fucking do it, Eyepatch!" Ayato snapped from somewhere around him, somewhere far off, somewhere in another world.

Right now it was just Kaneki.

It was just Kaneki and a heap of trash.

There was a muffled response somewhere beneath his foot. Kaneki didn't have the patience to raise it and find out whatever the nonsense was that Tsukiyama wanted to spew out.

"Should I?" Kaneki was asking himself. "Should I? I want to. But I want to do a lot of things a lot of the time and there are a lot of things that I regret, and if I die, if I die, I can't regret everything again, not again, so should I? Hey." He rose his foot and kicked Tsukiyama over. "Hey. Motherfucker. Tell me now. Give me a fucking reason. Why should I let you live?"

Tsukiyama's eyes were wide, and perhaps he realized now that Kaneki was serious, that he wanted nothing more than to split his chest into four separate entities. His smile turned wan, and then it disappeared completely.

But somehow he still seemed fucking wonderstruck.

"I can help you," Tsukiyama gasped. "Is that what you want? Oh, I misjudged you!" He laughed, and Kaneki felt the hum of it beneath the boot lying on Tsukiyama's chest. He coughed a bit, and he smirked up at Kaneki. "You are so… incredibly strong. I see now."

"You may see," Kaneki spat, "but do you listen?"

Tsukiyama's adam's apple bobbed. His smile was tight as the claw of one of Kaneki's kagune limbs grazed his trachea.

"I can start," he said thickly.

Oh. Everything in him was screaming.

Oh. He just wanted to fucking stop already.

Oh. The energy was failing him, and the lethargy returned.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Let the stars crash to the earth.

Let heaven come bearing down on him.

He could sleep in heaven.

With a heavy heart, he allowed his kagune to return to him, his body feeling simultaneously weightless and bloated. He turned around.

"This will not happen again," he said. "If you slip up, I will drag you to the inferno and back. And then I will show you what suffering feels like."

"Pretty threat."

"Not a threat," Kaneki whispered, cracking his index finger and meeting Ayato's chilly gaze. "A promise."

Ayato was holding Touka tightly in his arms. He eyed Kaneki distrustfully.

"Kill him," Ayato hissed.

"Not yet," Kaneki replied.

"You," Ayato spat, his shoulders shaking as he backed away. Touka was pulled tighter to his chest. "Whoever the fuck you are. You are a coward!"

"Maybe," Kaneki agreed softly. "But at least I'm pragmatic."

"Ugh!" Ayato whirled away. He jumped, scaling up the wall with great ease and disappearing on an upper platform.

Oh. Speaking of regret.

The sight of him taking Touka away was unbearable. To say the least.

Save and save and save.

Now he could only watch as everything he tried to accomplish was laid to waste at his feet.

He dragged his hands over his mask. He was shuddering. He was shivering. He was shifting from the mad mad madness that seemed to seep seep through him, and oh the stars, oh the sun, oh the moon, oh the fate that tore into him with a needle and a thread and tied him to these awful events that scarred his brain like craters upon ancient landscapes.

Oh, oh, oh. He would never find home again.

Oh, oh, oh.

He should have fucking died in a bed of spider lilies.

At least then he had been allowed to sleep.

The whole arena seemed to be vacated.

Aogiri would know of him. They would wonder about the Eyepatch ghoul.

But they could not have him this time.

This time, Kaneki got to be strong. Strong enough, at least, for this one thing.

Oh, oh, oh.

To be strong and to be weak. How utterly useless those phrases were. He could never not be weak. He was just stranded in a sense that he had been born to lie among the dirt and let the flowers grow from his passively decaying body.

Oh, oh, oh.

Should he not let it all end?

Thoughts like these were familiar, like old picture books fallen from a shelf.

He wanted to burn them all.

Oh, oh, oh.

"Kaneki…"

Oh.

Kaneki froze. His thoughts and feelings and very blood seemed to freeze up.

He had forgotten.

In this light, Mutsuki was shabby and shaky and shot through with lines of exhaustion. His fingers were trembling against the hilt of his quinque, and his shoulder was bloodied up. His kakugan was visible, his eyepatch nowhere in sight, and suddenly all of Kaneki's senses rushed back to him.

"Mu…" Kaneki took a step back, holding his head. "Mutsuki…"

The boy looked sad as he stood before Kaneki. His chin lowered. His jaw set.

He flipped the quinque in his hand and offered the hilt to Kaneki.

Kaneki stared down at it with wide eyes.

"Kill me," Mutsuki whispered. "I dare you."

Kaneki was already so fucked up.

Eating had been a mistake, and his mind was mush, and his body was electrified and bloated and it craved more and more and more.

It remembered what time had forgot.

Kaneki could consume power without ever laying a finger on a human.

Eat and eat and eat.

Oh, oh, oh.

Kaneki shook. He shuddered. He shivered.

And he snatched the knife from Mutsuki's hand and flung it to the floor.

"No," he gasped. "No! No, no, no!"

Mutsuki looked vaguely alarmed.

Just vaguely though.

"Why," Kaneki cried out, his bloody fingers clawing through his hair. "Why, why, why? Why would you ask me to do that?"

"I wanted to see if you would," Mutsuki said simply.

"No!"

"You can kill a dozen people," Mutsuki said softly, "but not me?"

"You're not them."

"I'm not a ghoul, you mean?"

"You're not a bad person!" Kaneki swallowed hard, blinking back tears. This was too much. This was too fucking much.

I would give anything for Mutsuki to not end up like me.

Why and why and why.

His senses were returning.

Slow and slow and slower yet, because all he could think was that he'd done this to him.

"Am I not?" Mutsuki looked genuinely surprised. "You read my file, didn't you? You tell me what's good about me."

Kaneki couldn't stand this.

"I don't care what your file says!" Kaneki wanted to reach out to touch him, but he felt that would be unwise. "Mutsuki, I hurt you once. I don't want to hurt you again. You are sweet, and generous, and everything I wish I could be. I need you to stay that way."

Somehow, Mutsuki didn't look convinced.

"I don't understand," Mutsuki said. He looked troubled and distant, like he wanted to escape from his skin.

"I'm not asking you to understand," Kaneki said quietly. "I'm just asking you to trust me. Can you do that?"

Mutsuki stared at him with large, searching eyes. They were watery, one bright, one dim, and his face seemed to collapse in exhaustion.

"I don't know," he whispered.

Kaneki could not quite comprehend the wound his words had inflicted.

Very slowly, he leaned down and he scooped up Mutsuki's quinque. Mutsuki took a sharp step back.

"Here," Kaneki said, offering it out. "Please take this. If you ever feel scared of me, I want you to kill me with it. Okay?"

"No," Mutsuki croaked, shaking his head furiously. "No, that's not okay!"

"Now you know how I feel." Kaneki took Mutsuki's hand gingerly, and he dropped the knife into it. "Are you scared of me right now?"

Mutsuki stared at him, tears filling up his eyes as he watched. He watched and he searched and if he saw something, if he found anything, it was enough.

It was enough.

"No," Mutsuki sighed, a tear trickling from the eye blackened by his perpetual kakugan. His fingers tightened around the knife, and he relaxed. "I'm not."

It was the first good thing to happen all fucking day.

It was enough, maybe, to cease the cacophony inside his head.

Oh, oh, oh.

He would not fall prey to this again.

"I found him."

"Oh really?" Why did Yoshitoki sound so unsurprised? Kaneki stared dully at his hands as he sat on the coffee table, watching Mutsuki's chest rise and fall evenly. He'd fallen asleep on the train home, and Kaneki had been able to carry him without him waking. Which was a testament to Mutsuki's exhaustion. "That's great to hear! Is he okay, then? I hope you didn't run into any trouble."

"A little trouble," Kaneki admitted. "But it's manageable. I guess." Kaneki didn't feel like his problems were manageable. He was still craving more and more and more. "I have some things for you. A list of names, and an additional proposition."

"Sounds promising." Yoshitoki was probably beaming on the other side of the phone. "How about we meet this week? I'd like to speak to you about something."

"Sure."

"You can bring Mutsuki, if he's feeling up to it."

Kaneki's eyes trailed to the boy's face. His eyelashes were thick and glistening from the tears he'd shed on the way back home.

Kaneki had really fucked up.

"Maybe," he said. "I'd have to ask him."

"Yeah, of course. Just let me know, okay?"

Kaneki shut his phone and set it aside. He pulled his knees up to his chest, his chin resting on his knees, his eyelids growing heavier and heavier.

Oh, oh, oh.

The hollowness returned.

He did not miss this.

He had forgotten. Funny, wasn't it? Forgetting what it felt like to lose your mind.

It was so scary. He was so scared. Of himself, of the things he dreamt that were realities, of the realities that he found to be dreams. He was scared that he could never know himself, and therefore never know anyone else.

He was scared that this was all a lie. That he was a faker at heart.

The king of fakes.

The worst part was that he knew he wanted to be alone. He knew that it would be easier to suffer this alone, with nothing but his stuffed up brain and his busted up heart.

But the thing was, he had played this game before.

And whatever the hell he wanted right now, it had to be wrong.

So he picked up his phone, and he did what he knew he would regret.

SOS

To Hide. No explanation.

The phone buzzed half a heartbeat later.

On my way

Mutsuki woke with a start. He was half shouting, his arms flying outward and his body jerking forward, and he gasped, wincing and folding his arms over his chest. He must have sat up the wrong way.

"Hey," Kaneki said gently, sliding over to the side of the table nearest to Mutsuki. "It's okay."

"K— Kaneki…?" Mutsuki was panting, his hands finding his eyes, finding the tears on his cheeks, finding his tousled hair, finding his trembling lips. "I… I'm so sorry… I…"

"Please," Kaneki sighed, shaking his head. "Don't. Tell me what you're really feeling, Mutsuki."

And then Mutsuki Tooru began to sob.

Kaneki was shocked. He reached out, but Mutsuki flinched back. He shook his head, and he shook, and he shook, and oh, he shook.

And then he just… blurted it out.

"I just want to be me," he gasped, heaving a breath and hiding his face in shame. "I didn't know how to tell you. I-I-I—! I didn't want you to know! When people know, they treat you different! I… I… I should have s-said, right? But I hate it, I hate this part of me, I hate that I hide it, I hate that I can't be normal, I hate th-that. That I'm me. I hate myself."

"Please don't," Kaneki whispered.

"But I do, and I-I-I— I want to be someone different." Mutsuki was shaking worse than he had in the arena. His composure had slipped. This was what he'd been hiding. At least for the most part. "Why is it… why is it that I can legally change my species but I have to wait until I'm twenty to change my sex? I— I don't get it! It's not fair!"

"I'm sorry," Kaneki said softly.

Mutsuki was trembling. He buried his face in his hands, and he hiccupped, and then he shook his head. "Please… please, I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen, Kaneki, honest, I— I just wanted to come home."

"I don't blame you for any of it." Kaneki reached out, and he grasped Mutsuki's shaky hands, prying them away from his tear streaked face. "Not one bit. Tsukiyama is hard to resist. I get that."

"I knew he wasn't going to take me home," Mutsuki mumbled. "I'm such an idiot. Why did I let him take me with him?"

"He's charming, I guess."

"No… no, he was definitely creepy." Mutsuki shuddered. He stared down at his hands in Kaneki's. "He knew. About me. He knew, and he tried to use that against me. This is why I keep it a secret. Anybody worth telling doesn't want to know you're trans."

It was the first time Mutsuki had actually said it, which was strange to hear and stranger to feel. Because Kaneki felt distinctly detached from the subject. He felt like he should be more sympathetic. There was an allegory here somewhere, if he dug deep enough. But he was too tired to analyze his life for some poetic line where he might be able to understand even an ounce of the heartache and trauma Mutsuki had been through.

"I don't want to say that I don't care," Kaneki stated carefully, "because that's not the case. I do care, I guess, just not for the reason you think. I don't mind what your gender is. I'd happily accept you any way you choose, girl, boy, something in between, nothing at all, that's… that's honestly fine by me." He smiled faintly. "Identity is a hard thing to puzzle out. I think it's really amazing that you know who you are, and who you want to be, and you maintain that sense of self."

Mutsuki looked a little stunned, his mouth parting slowly. He blinked, and his brow furrowed.

"I don't know myself at all," he murmured. "Oh… Kaneki, it's the worst. It's the worst feeling. Sometimes I think I'm wrong. That I'm faking it. That's what I used to think all the time. Is that bad? But it's been that way forever and ever, as far back as I can remember. Every feeling I have, I just… I think that it's just a trick of my brain." He was staring into a far off place between the corner of the living room and the corner of his memory. "Am I really a boy, or am I just a silly girl playing pretend? Am I really anxious or am I just making a big deal out of nothing. It just gets worse and worse."

Kaneki took a deep breath. He squeezed Mutsuki's hands tightly.

"Minds are dangerous places to dwell in," he warned. "Whatever you want, whoever you want to be, you own it. Not the other way around. Say that you are a boy, and I'll believe it."

Mutsuki's whole body quaked. He leaned forward and all but fell into Kaneki, his face colliding with his chest. He didn't sob again, but he shook and shook and shook as though he would never stop shaking again. He clung, his body unbearably small and bony as he half curled against Kaneki, crying away his doubts. He left Kaneki's shirt wet, and he left himself utterly exhausted. There was no energy left for Mutsuki to pull back.

It took Kaneki a few minutes to realize Mutsuki had fallen asleep again. So he gingerly gathered him up, and he brought him to his room so he could sleep in peace while Kaneki got his own issues out into the open.

When that was done, he let himself lie down on the couch and watch the ceiling fan. It wasn't even on. It was freezing outside— why should it be? He was forgetting the dates, the times, and the seasons. He was forgetting where he stood in this world, and how he might sort things out.

He was forgetting that his fate was dictated by a string of suffering that he didn't know how to stop.

It was like a fucking tsunami. How the hell was he supposed to stop it from destroying everything?

Yes, he was wallowing, and he hated himself for it, but he couldn't stop.

It was hard to pull himself out of a tangled rut of thoughts that strangled his brain.

The door opened without warning. Kaneki didn't even want to sit up. He just curled onto his side as Hide, still wearing his Anteiku uniform, burst into the room and marched around the couch and stopping before him.

Hide looked down at him with true fear glazing his eyes.

"What happened, buddy?" Hide whispered, his eyes quickly flicking about the room.

Kaneki's cheek burrowed into the couch cushion.

"I fucked up," he mumbled.

"Mm. Okay." Hide cracked a smile, and he sat where Kaneki had sat about fifteen minutes earlier. The table creaked mildly under his weight. "What else is new?"

Kaneki watched the leg of the table. It was wobbly and chipped. He wondered if he should fix it.

"Kaneki."

He felt so tired and spent. He felt like he'd forgotten how to be alive. It was so incredibly draining to just exist. Could it not just end? He would give anything. He wanted nothing more than to just stop. Was that so bad?

"Kaneki."

Why had he done it? He felt so sick to his stomach now. Oh, oh, oh, the regret, it was gonna eat him alive like he had to those ghouls.

"Oi!" Hide snatched a pillow from the couch and smacked Kaneki's shoulder. Kaneki jumped. "Answer me! I can't help if I don't know what happened!"

"I don't know if you can help at all," Kaneki admitted weakly.

"I can sure as hell try!" Hide hugged the pillow to his chest and scowled. "You just gotta let me, man."

He cautiously sat up. His whole body ached and groaned, hissing at him that he would feel this mistake for the rest of his life. There was nothing simple or easy about resorting to eating ghouls. It tricked your mind and warped your body. You became a shell of a person, trying so hard to remember the person you used to be, trying to show that you could still love, that you were still capable of such a beautiful thing.

"I ate a bunch of ghouls," Kaneki said quietly, dragging his fingers through his hair and blinking the film from his eyes. "Ah. I think it was a bunch. I don't remember too well."

Hide watched him. He didn't look surprised or afraid, but the lack of a reaction was even more terrifying than a negative one. Kaneki didn't know what to say or do next. He shivered, and he licked his lips.

"I feel so bad, Hide," he whispered.

"What does eating ghouls… do… exactly…?" He spoke with caution. Like he was treading on thin ice. Like he knew that he was heading down a dangerous path, but he saw exactly where the pitfalls were.

"I can't explain it." Kaneki opened and closed his hands. There was still blood caked to them, dried up in the creases, powdery beneath his nails. Hide saw, and he made no comment. "It's scary. I don't like this. This is a thing that is beyond humanity."

"Is that so bad?"

"Yes." Kaneki met Hide's eye. "All I ever wanted was to be as human as I possibly could be. But now I feel it. I've made a mistake."

"We all make them." Hide smiled wanly. "You are not the only one, Kaneki. And eating ghouls— I'm not saying that was the right decision, but whatever, man. It happened. You gotta live with it."

"What if I do it again?"

"Then you do it again," Hide said, scratching his cheek. His smile was still in place. "And you hate yourself more for it. Is this what you want, Kaneki? To eat ghouls for the rest of your life?"

"No," he groaned, covering his eyes with his hands. "Not at all! But, Hide, I feel like I've run out of options. I can't be strong with the gunk the CCG feeds me!"

"Who said anything about being strong?" Hide's eyes had widened, the first true reaction Kaneki had gotten thus far. "Kaneki, you're already the strongest person I've ever met. You don't need to eat ghouls to get stronger. You don't need that."

"But I do."

"I won't stop you from believing it," Hide said. "But, also, you're wrong."

Kaneki took a deep breath. He let his hands drop into his lap, and he stared at Hide desperately.

"Why do you still care about me?" he asked. "Why don't you think I'm a monster?"

"Because I have known you," Hide laughed, "for most of my life. And honestly, Kaneki, looking back at the life I've lived so far, you've been the best part of it. You're not a monster to me, and you never will be."

Kaneki sat, utterly stunned.

How did Hide consistently manage to stun Kaneki into silence?

He was too kind by far.

There was something Kaneki wanted.

It was a future where he and Hide and Touka and Hinami and Mutsuki could all be together and be happy.

Just to imagine it made his hair stand on end.

"Why," Kaneki asked shakily, "do you always know exactly what to say?"

Hide laughed. He winked, and clicked his fingers into a gun. "Talent," he teased.

"Bullshit," Kaneki sighed.

"Both!" Hide laughed delightedly, resting his hands back against the table as he kicked his feet into the air. Kaneki smiled.

And then he was sort of laughing too.

And then he was actually laughing. The laughter fell in short chuckles, rapid and vacant and wanting so much more. It fell away like husks of tulip bulbs, fluttering hollowly in the wind. It fell as he had fallen, a sharp and graceless decline that left him tumbling and stumbling.

When he laughed, the world didn't seem so heavy. His chest didn't seem so tight.

It was a strange and confusing sensation of his whole existence closing up and then falling open again.

But it was good to laugh.

To feel.

Even when the whole world seemed to be turning against him.

Hide bounced up and collapsed into the seat next to Kaneki.

"Mutsuki ended up okay?" Hide asked once they quieted down.

Kaneki blinked, rubbing the back of his hand over the bridge of his nose. He could smell the blood clinging to his skin.

"I guess that depends on how you define okay." Kaneki watched the bedroom door sadly. "Did he get hurt? Yes. Is he scared? Yes. Does he still trust me? Maybe. But he's alive, so I guess that must count for something."

"It does," Hide assured him.

Kaneki sighed, and he pulled his legs up to his chest, sliding his arms under his knees. "I'm a bad role model," he said distantly.

"No you're not," Hide sighed.

"I'm a bad parent," he continued, his chin resting on his knees. "I'm… I'm…"

"Kaneki," Hide said gently. "You know that my jokes about being Mutsuki's mom and dad are just that. They're jokes. We're not old enough to understand what parenting is like, let alone become that kind of substitute for a teenager. We're still teenagers ourselves. You can't feel responsible."

"But I am!" Kaneki shook his head furiously. "You don't get it, Hide, this time I really am responsible! I disregarded Mutsuki's feelings when I took that file. I breached his trust, and now he's hurt because of my mistake."

"I don't think it was just the file, Kaneki," Hide sighed.

"What do you mean?"

Hide glanced at him. His smile was tight and thin, and he groaned. "Gosh," he mumbled. "Why do I always gotta explain everything? Look, it's like… it's like World War I."

"Huh?" Kaneki asked flatly.

"The War to End All Wars," Hide said in a soothing little voice that reminded Kaneki of story time at the library when he'd been small. "What caused it?"

Kaneki thought for a second before answering tentatively. "The assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand," he said. "Everyone knows that."

"Wrong!" Hide flicked Kaneki's forehead. "Pay attention in history class, you lit nerd."

"No, that's right," Kaneki gasped. "That's literally what happened. God, what are you on about now?"

Hide laughed, and it sounded vaguely evil, like he was mimicking a cartoon villain. "Everybody knows the surface trigger of World War I, but that's not the reason it started. World War I was the accumulation of tension between the vying powers of Europe and the rest of the world at that time. Dude, one guy getting killed can be reconciled if the countries want to talk peace. But nobody wanted peace. The death of one guy just sent off a chain reaction, and gave the world an excuse to mobilize after years of cocking their guns."

Kaneki sat like a diligent student, listening to Hide talk excitedly about history with slight awe. He'd never really realized that Hide was so passionate about this stuff.

"That's cool," Kaneki said. "But what does it have to do with me?"

"Mutsuki is Europe," Hide explained slowly, "and that file was Archduke Franz Ferdinand's assassination. Boom!" Hide's fingers were a gun flicked in Kaneki's face, shooting violently. "World War I!"

"That's a little extreme," Kaneki said.

"It's just a metaphor. Learn to take a hint, former lit major." Hide smirked, and he leaned back against the couch, tilting his chin up toward the ceiling. "Mutsuki had problems before you stole that file. He had problems before you even met him. This isn't about you, Kaneki."

"You said that before," Kaneki murmured.

"And I'll say it again," Hide said firmly, bolting up straight. "Listen to me speak. Understand my words. I need you to wrap that stubborn fucking brain around it. Mutsuki's problems are because of things that you have zero control over. This is not your fault, Kaneki, because this is not about you. It can't be about you."

Kaneki glanced at him, his eyes wide and his shoulders hunching. He felt so bad about it. About all of it. About the file, about the secrets, about Tsukiyama, about the ghoul restaurant, about the ghouls that had been eaten, about Mutsuki's tears. It was all so bad. And Hide was trying to convince him that none of it was his fault?

That was illogical!

"Oh," Kaneki murmured, closing his eyes. "Oh. Oh, this is awful."

"You can't change somebody's past, Kaneki." Hide smiled, and he shook his head. "Please just accept this. It'll be better for everyone involved if you stop putting everything on yourself."

Kaneki let out a shaky breath. He was thinking, and it was making his whole body shiver. He was thinking, and he wanted it to stop. He was thinking, and he was remembering, and he was wishing that he could change his own past. Selective remembering was easy when there wasn't something to trigger the bad, bad, bad things.

Because Kaneki had had a thought.

It made his stomach churn.

"I'm just like my mother," he whispered to the stars.

And beside him, one responded.

"No you're not."

He had spent lifetimes making revolutions around this sun that could not stand still.

He would never understand it.

It was almost too much. Sometimes, to just sit beside him, it was just too fucking bright, and Kaneki needed to close up for a while. Just a little while.

Why could he never have day and night simultaneously?

He would love an eclipse right about now.

Where the sun and the moon could meet before him, and stay with him, and enthrall him.

He wished for things that he could never have, and it killed him inside.

"How can you say that?" Kaneki breathed.

"How can you say that?" Hide countered.

"I—!" Kaneki flushed, and he felt dizzy with a sense that he'd lost something over time and space. "I don't know!"

"You are not like your mother," Hide said calmly, rising to his feet. "Please don't ever say something like that again."

"You didn't even know my mother," Kaneki murmured.

"I didn't have to know her well to know that you're being unfair to yourself by comparing you to her."

"She wasn't…" Kaneki found himself at a loss as the memories blurred together and left him tired and dry.

Hide watched him levelly. There was a growing rift between them as this conversation went on and on, the silence blanketing the space like freshly fallen snow. There was a chill here, in a place between knowing and not knowing, in a stream of memories that seemed so real, so happy and safe, but were not all so happy and not all so safe. He was drowning in the uncertainties.

"You can still love her," Hide said in a voice that sounded like he was striking a bargain with a demon, "and criticize her too. She wasn't a perfect person, Kaneki."

"Neither am I."

"But the difference here is," Hide sighed, "is you know better."

"I really don't know anything," Kaneki said. "I just keep making the same mistakes. Maybe even her mistakes. Hide, did my mother love me?"

"Why are you asking me something like that?"

Kaneki was struck by his own foolishness.

Anxiety was folding over him.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly. "I just can't remember that well. Did she care about me? I can't remember. Oh, oh, oh…" Kaneki chuckled to himself, whisking his fingers through his hair and throwing his head back. His fingers clawed at his scalp while his thumbs struck his eyelids, applying pressure to the eyeball beneath it. "Why didn't this kill me?"

Hide was silent.

Silence and silence and silence.

Then, with a tentative sort of tug, Kaneki was pulled into a one armed hug. His head hit Hide's shoulder, and the pressure was lifted from his eyes.

Kaneki pried his hands away.

"Why are you hugging me?" he whispered.

Hide's fingers dug into Kaneki's bicep, tight and biting, and the look on his face was a cross between amused and absolutely stricken. "I don't know what else to do," he admitted.

"Say something," Kaneki said. "Say anything."

"I don't think you want to hear the words I have to say."

"Say it anyway."

Hide was watching something that was not Kaneki's face. His eyes had swiveled to the place Mutsuki had found. Between the corner of the room and the corner of memory.

"Parents who don't teach their children to love themselves don't deserved to be loved." Hide met Kaneki's eye, and he smiled. "Learn to love yourself, Kaneki, and let her go."

Kaneki exhaled shakily. His words were floating on the surface of his brain, waiting to sink in. "She was my mother," he said dully.

"You can love her without becoming her." Hide unwound his arm from Kaneki's shoulders, and he let his hands fall into his lap. His eyes were downcast as they searched them for answers. "When you're little, your parents are… infallible. No matter how many mistakes they make, no matter what cruel thing they do to you, you rationalize that it must be the right thing because they're your parents. But when you grow up, you get a sense of how human they actually are. Kaneki, your mom died when you were too young to see the flaws in her, so you've grown up stuck with this idea that everything she ever did must have been in the right even though I know you know she was wrong more often than not. Just accept it."

"Are you telling me I need to grow up?" Kaneki whispered.

"I'm telling you that one day you are going to wake up," Hide warned, "and you are going to look into the mirror, and you are going to see your mother looking back at you. And you will hate yourself."

"You told me I'm not like her," Kaneki snorted, glaring away at a wall.

"Not quite," Hide said with a little laugh and a little smile. "Not yet."

"What should I do?" Kaneki shifted, facing Hide fully and folding his legs beneath him. "Tell me how to avoid it."

Hide looked a little remorseful, his smile stretched thin as he shook his head sadly.

"I wish I could tell you," he said. "But even I can't know for sure how to avoid becoming our parents."

Kaneki wanted to understand. He wanted to know how to stop himself from becoming the person getting hurt.

But this was a cycle that would never end.

The room was bone white. Her shoes were coal black. And everything was matte, like it had run over by thousand yards of sandpaper.

She got to her knees, and she touched the ground. It was soft like feathers. The floor shifted beneath her, morphing to her touch. She smiled and laid down in it, her arms stretching out and letting the feathers stitch around her, accumulating into a bed of wings.

"I'm so happy," she sighed to the wings.

The sky replied to her.

"Sing me a hymn."

She rose, and the wings folded against her back.

"I can't sing," she said cautiously. "Can't I do something else for you?"

"Please," the sky sighed, "sing me a hymn."

"I can do something else for you." She was floating, her matte black shoes toeing the edge of pool. "I can bring you treasure."

"Sing me a hymn. Please, please, please."

"Let me bring you treasure." She kicked the shoes away. They clattered like rocks against a shore. "It's here. I can swim to it."

"Oh," sighed the sky, "oh, oh… just sing me a hymn… you're too young to die. You can't swim."

Her feet were swallowed up by the cold pool. She glared at the sky, and she scoffed. "Liar," she murmured.

And then the water sucked her down.

There were hands around her ankles and arms around her waist and faces pressed into her neck.

Love me, they sobbed. Voices in a void. Love me, love me!

They toyed with her wings, their sobs becoming the water and drowning her out.

The wings were weighing her down.

Across from her, floating in the pool of sobs, her brother twisted and screamed and snarled as the hands circled his neck, the faces nuzzled his chest, the fingers ringed his ankles. They were both bogged down by the shrieking, writhing force of love me, love me, love me.

There was still treasure to be found.

Were they both searching for it?

"I can swim," she whispered.

She watched her brother tear himself apart. The hands, his hands, were ripping open his chest, pulling apart the skin and prying open his ribs, and a hurricane of inky black feathers poured out.

If she wanted to scream, she found she couldn't.

The hands were smothering her. She wanted to scream, to squirm, to cry.

But then they deposited her onto the shiny mirror floor, and through the waves of sobs, she saw it.

Treasure.

The moment her feet touched the floor, the treasure disappeared behind it. She blinked, watching her reflection on the mirror tile. It was ragged and confusing, black ink plastered across her cheeks where her unruly hair fell in tufts. Too bony and wiry, too sharp and shadowy. She knelt down and let her fingers drag over the mirror's surface.

She lifted her hands up into two fists, and she brought them down upon the floor.

The mirror cracked.

She did it again, and the mirror shattered.

The shards blew across her eyes, darting the air like stars.

She dug through the sea of glittering glass, and she pulled the treasure out.

Then she offered it out toward the sky.

"Take it," she said. Her hands here raw and bloody from digging through the glass.

The sky watched her.

He took the still beating heart, and it thudded in his fist.

"What do I do with this?" he asked.

"I don't know," she said. "It just seems like a thing you need."

The sky cupped the heart in his hand. He opened his mouth, and he swallowed it whole.

Her brain was shocked awake, jolted by the starkness of her dream. It had all been in black and white except for the blood. Had there been blood? She couldn't remember now, but she felt sort of sick to her stomach. Her discomfort only grew as she became more acquainted with her surroundings, and felt that she was lying on the ground. Now why the hell was that?

Touka's mind swam. She couldn't quite think of why that might be.

Until it all came flooding back.

Her eyes snapped open, eyelids peeling back, breath catching in her throat. Her vision swam, and her body felt stiff and weak. Her mouth tasted distinctly of blood, warm and sweet on the back of her tongue, lingering tauntingly as though to tease her for not enjoying whatever meal had been forced on her.

The whole world looked bleary. Half bright, with light smudging the contours of the room, illuminating the great walls of dust that swirled between the boards on the windows.

The warehouse.

Aogiri Tree.

It was swimming in her brain, this idea that she could be part of something that she hated so fucking much.

This wasn't the windowsill where she normally made her bed, however. This was a completely separate room, a place she had not been in before. It was wide and vacuous, stretching emptily from wall to wall. Debris was swept up into a corner and discarded. Dust swam like a smoke screen.

She shifted, and found that she was actually lying on a mat. It was mildly uncomfortable, but better than what she'd become accustomed to here. She rolled onto her side, her ratty blanket falling from her shoulders.

And she found herself face to face with Ayato.

To say she was frozen in shock was an understatement. Her bones were on ice, and she could feel the icicles forming on her lashes. She held her breath, staring intently at his soft, serene looking face as he slept soundly beside her. Aside from the slight furrow of his brow, he looked so calm and at peace. She couldn't remember the last time she'd ever seen him look so sweet. His mouth was parted slightly, his exhalations steady and heavy, his chest rising and falling evenly. He was using his arm and a rolled up sweatshirt as a pillow, his body curling close to the mat as though he'd gotten cold in the night. And she couldn't blame him.

Her breath came out in puffs.

She touched the ratty, threadbare blanket gingerly. It was scratchy and thin, but it did its job.

Did he… give this to me…? She didn't want to sit up in fear that she might wake him.

His hair was curling around his cheeks, his breath creating small clouds beneath his nose. His hand, the one not coiled under his arm, was resting in the space between their heads, half on the mat, half on the ground.

This was a wave of déjà vu that she would never escape from.

This feeling, like she'd been cast into a shivery memory.

She had lived this scene a hundred times.

How many times had she laid in the dark at home, watching the empty bed across from her and wishing to return to this moment? This hundred time moment?

It was scary how much you could miss someone who, at one point, you'd thought you could never lose.

Who, at one point, you thought you could never miss.

Who, at this point, shouldn't be missed at all.

Touka slipped from beneath the blanket, crawling onto the cool concrete and wincing. It felt like ice against her bare skin, and Ayato had made his bed on it. How?

She dragged herself to her feet, dizzy with lethargy, and she patted her stomach. The wound had disappeared, probably due to the food given to her. She hadn't wanted it, but there was no use complaining. It had probably saved her a lot of pain.

When she searched the room for her bag, she found it was nowhere in sight. Great. She had to go search for it and hope none of the little gremlins of Aogiri had gotten their nasty paws on her shit. Great. Fucking perfect.

Touka ran her fingers through her hair, and she tugged at her bloodstained shirt. There was a gaping hole in the center that showed off her navel. A nice gesture, but not practical or stylish. She'd have to change it.

She found a duffle bag in the corner opposite from the debris filled with clothing. She shrugged off her coat and peeled the shirt off, snatching a baggy black graphic tee shirt and tugging it over her head. It had a band name on it.

Ayato probably hated it anyway.

She pulled her jacket back on, shivering a little as she tip toed back to the mat and picked up the blanket. The sun was blurring Ayato's face, making him look vaguely angelic. What a dirty liar light made itself to be.

Touka gently threw the blanket over Ayato's tense shoulders. She waited for him to relax before she walked out of the room.

Of course, she wasn't sure what to do now, so she went to go see Tatara.

"Well," he stated as she walked through the door, "you certainly look better."

"Cut the shit," she said, striding right up to him and staring down at him. He was sitting, looking up at her dully. "What's my punishment for fighting Tsukiyama?"

"Punishment?" Tatara's eyes narrowed. He leaned back in his chair, and he nodded slowly. "Ah. I see. So Ayato lied."

"What?" Touka's heart seized.

What the fuck had she just done?

Tatara shrugged. "He said the mission took a turn for the worse when an old rival recognized him. And that you got caught in the fray when you tried to stop it. Is that not true?"

She folded her arms across her chest and scowled. "Well it's not untrue," she remarked. "But he left out some shit. Like how it was my idea."

"He also mentioned something about a one eyed ghoul." Tatara rose to his feet, causing Touka to take several steps back. "You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

Touka didn't know if her face had betrayed her terror, but she did her goddamn fucking best, man.

"One eye…?" She squinted at him. "What?"

Kaneki or Mutsuki, she thought wildly as Tatara squinted right back. Her heart was pounding. He must hear it, and must know that she was lying. Kaneki or Mutsuki. One of them has gotten noticed. This isn't going to work.

She was scared that Tatara could read her thoughts.

Her palms were sweating, and she was scared that this asshole was a mind reader because he had a chance to ruin everything.

"Did no one explain," Tatara said, sounding amused, "about the One Eyed King?"

"Nope," she said flatly. She smirked at him. "Don't tell me it's you."

"If it were me, little Kirishima, we would not be having this conversation. Sit down."

"What?" Touka glanced at either side of him. There was that empty space where Eto liked to sit. That was where Tatara was gesturing.

"Sit," he said.

So Touka sat.

"You know better than Ayato," Tatara observed. "You don't make a fuss about menial orders. However, I find you to be troublesome."

Touka sat with her legs crossed. She couldn't even look up at him. What was she doing on the floor? What was this supposed to fucking prove, anyway?

"Do you know why?"

She considered her options. Unfortunately, her list of character flaws was a mile long.

"It could be anything," she admitted. "I'm too rash, too soft, too eager to fight, too stubborn to back off, too much of an outsider. Whatever. It's all the same."

"No," Tatara said. "You should find yourself wishing you had some sameness to you. If you were boring, you could blend in better. But, Kirishima, boring is an ugly color on you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" she asked uncomfortably.

Tatara paused. "I'm not sure," he said. "It is something Eto said."

Touka considered that. She frowned deeply. "Eto isn't here right now," she said. "Why would she say that about me?"

"Pick her brain for answers," Tatara said. "See how far you get."

Touka leapt to her feet. "You know what," she said fiercely, "maybe I will!"

Tatara watched her. His dull, heavily lidded eyes followed her as she stomped away.

"That," he remarked, "is exactly what Eto meant."

Touka froze at the door, her boot scraping against the wood mid-stomp. She considered turning to look back at him, but she knew that would only give him the satisfaction.

So she kept on walking.

Chapter Text

They didn't speak. It was a vacuous sort of silence— the kind that took a second to manifest and a decade to fill up. It was heavy, and it was barren, and it left them both feeling like complicated disasters. They didn't speak. And the day rolled past without a word between them.

And then another day passed.

And then another.

Mutsuki didn't avoid him. On the contrary, he made a point to appear. However, he never opened his mouth and acknowledged Kaneki's presence.

And Kaneki found himself at a loss for words.

He wanted to say something. He thought that it might make them both feel better if they just talked about it some more. But they were both scared and ashamed of who they were and what they'd done, so no words were exchanged and no conversation was had.

So Mutsuki woke up, made himself some toast, met Kaneki's eye for a small stretch of time before focusing on the task at hand. It was just a repeat of the same old motions, but he acted like he'd never done it before over and over. Kaneki didn't let his eyes linger. He didn't want to stare.

Mutsuki ate. He left to get dressed. Kaneki got dressed. They both headed out in silence.

Finally Kaneki couldn't keep quiet anymore.

"I'm going to the first branch today," he blurted. They were coming close to the subway station, and Mutsuki's feet clicked softly against the sidewalk. Morning sounds chattered away inside their ears, rushing cars and beeping, and quick paced steps, and soft twittering of birds in far off trees, and children laughing nearby. "You're welcome to come with me."

Mutsuki stood and stared.

He clutched the hem of his coat tightly. "No," he said hoarsely, as though he had not spoken in months. "I'm okay. I have a lot of paperwork to do."

"Oh. Okay." Kaneki blinked. Mutsuki nodded. "So I guess we're going different ways, then?"

"I guess." Mutsuki glanced away. His fingers tightened their grip on the hem. He sighed deeply. "I… Kaneki. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize," Kaneki said. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

Mutsuki's eye was dim and sad.

His fingers caused the fabric of his coat to bunch up between his hands.

He turned around and began to walk away. Kaneki felt so defeated. Would things ever be the same?

Then Mutsuki turned around sharply.

"Kaneki," he called from about three yards away. "I think I lied. I think I'm scared of you."

It was a troubling feeling to know your heart was sinking like the Titanic.

He had to swallow hard before he replied.

"Is that right?" He averted his gaze. He took a deep breath. "Maybe… that's for the best."

"I don't want to be scared of you, and I don't want to kill you," Mutsuki said. He was throwing these words to the wind. "But all I can see is you in that mask, with the blood smeared around your mouth and all over your hands, and I can't get it out of my head! How could you do that? Killing ghouls is one thing, but why would you eat them?"

"This isn't the time," Kaneki said, turning away sharply, "or place."

"I—!" Mutsuki sounded breathless and desperate. "Wait. Don't go just yet! I want to talk about this now or I'll never work up the courage again! Kaneki—!"

Kaneki turned around. He held his briefcase loosely in one hand, and stared at the boy dully.

"I ate them because I was angry," he said. "And I was scared. I didn't know if I'd be able to save you. No— I knew I couldn't. So I started eating. And eating. And eating. And it felt so hard to stop. I don't remember when it began or when it ended. It's all a blur, and I made a mess of everything. I just wanted to be strong enough."

"You were strong before that," Mutsuki insisted.

"To be strong," Kaneki said dryly, "you have to be willing to give yourself up completely. You make endless sacrifices. I just wanted to get to you. To help you."

"You did," Mutsuki said.

"Maybe this time." Kaneki's grip on his briefcase tightened. He turned on his heel. "I won't always be here to save you, Mutsuki. You have to learn how to save yourself."

He didn't stick around for Mutsuki's response.

Yes, it was cruel, but Kaneki feared the day when he would be too late. If he'd had even an ounce of hope that Mutsuki could have gotten himself out of the ghoul restaurant, would he have resorted to eating?

It was difficult to tell if he'd been telling the truth or if he was really just sick and cannibalistic.

The subway was becoming more and more familiar to him. He just stood, held on to a pole, and let the specter of his reflection flicker in the shaky black glass of the window. He was a ghost here, a ghost of his potential that had waned and waned and waned as the years drew by.

What had he wanted? Before all of this had made his life hell?

A literature degree. For what? What had been his goal?

He couldn't even remember now.

What was beyond this? This life of grief and sorrow and tragedy?

Nothing.

He felt like there was no before or after. Just this hollow in-between state that he lived so thoroughly in.

He got to the first branch headquarters relatively early. He had time to kill.

When Kaneki entered the bathroom, the first thing he did was check his reflection. And boy oh boy! He looked like shit. He touched the sallow skin beneath his left eye. It wasn't even the beaten mauve color that the dark circles tended to be. No, it was like a bruise had half healed, and his eyelids were a mismatch of ugly yellow and deep purple shadow. On top of that, his complexion was eerily pale, and his hair was an absolute mess. Tufts of black were strewn across his forehead and around his ears. He had not brushed it that morning, or the morning before, or the morning before, or the morning— ah.

Was this laziness? Or something else?

His stomach growled, and he glowered at the mirror. He had the urge to punch it.

He lifted his fist and gingerly pressed it to the cool surface of the mirror. His shoulders hunched, and he bowed his head, listening to his deep breaths rattle in the empty room. How hard was it, exactly, to live? To just live? If he was asking for a sign to keep moving, he'd fallen flat on his face before he could see it.

The door creaked open, and Kaneki knew he should pull back and pull himself together, but he couldn't.

There was so much at stake here. Mutsuki, Touka, and peace all hung in the balance because of Kaneki's unsteady hand stitching up words and lies and tangling them all in his fucked up fate.

"Are you alright, young man?"

Kaneki dropped his fist from the mirror, and he instead gripped the porcelain ledge of the sink. He raised his head to send the older man a tight smile. "I'm fine, sir," he said.

"You look ill," he observed. Kaneki stiffened as he pressed the back of his hand to Kaneki's forehead. It was cool and bony. "Hm, warmer than usual… are you from a junior academy? I can bring you back."

"I'm a ghoul investigator," Kaneki told the man weakly, blinking up at his face. He had a warm, genial presence that suggested he was very worried and might do something drastic because of that.

"… Are you?" The man seemed taken aback. "Really?"

"Unfortunately," Kaneki sighed.

"I'm sorry," the man said, withdrawing his hand. "I thought you were much younger. You looked about my son's age, so I assumed—"

"It's fine." Kaneki waved offhandedly. "I know I look like a high schooler. Maybe one day it'll benefit me."

"Ah." The man smiled. "You'll be thankful for it when you're my age. Youth flies by."

"Yeah," he agreed somberly.

"You really should take a day to yourself, though," the man advised.

"Maybe some other time." Kaneki ran his fingers through his hair, and he glanced at his tired reflection. "I have stuff to do."

"Your health is more important."

"I sincerely doubt the CCG would agree with that," Kaneki said, smiling grimly up at the man. "Thank you for caring, though."

The man seemed puzzled. Then, tentatively, he asked, "What is your name?"

"Kaneki Ken." It was like watching a gear click into place. "Guess word gets around about me."

"You're an interesting case." The man looked suddenly distant and difficult to read. It seemed like there was so much going on in his head that he couldn't let out. "What are you doing here, at the first branch?"

"Dealing with my mistakes," he said dully, "as usual."

"Seems like a thankless effort."

"It is," Kaneki admitted. "But I have to pay for being who I am. Anyway, thanks a lot…?"

"Urie," the man said cautiously. Kaneki did a double take. He recognized the name from somewhere, but he couldn't quite recall where. Anyway, it was a family name, so it couldn't mean too much. There were probably hundreds of Uries in the city.

"Nice to meet you," Kaneki said, bowing his head respectfully. "Thank you very much."

He walked out without another word. He felt jittery and uncertain, like he'd just been on a stage and now had to soothe his nerves.

As he was walking up the stairs, a young girl cut him off.

"Hello," she said in a dreamy little voice that reminded him of a fairy, high and distant and ringing like a bell from the top of the highest tower that stood twenty kilometers away. "Kaneki Ken, right?"

"That's right," he said, frowning at her. She was wearing a school uniform, her hair soft looking and light hued, tied back with a number of pins. She had a briefcase in her hands. Her uneven bangs fell into her droopy eyes.

"Oh," she sighed with a soft smile, "I thought so! You really do look so young. Has Ui talked to you about undercover work yet?"

"What?"

"Suppose not," she laughed, swinging back on her heels and bouncing her briefcase against her thigh. "You should ask him. It's not so bad, honestly. We could go together and ask!" She hooked her arm through his and began leading him up the stairs. "I'm supposed to be on duty right now, but I had to submit a report. Have you gotten around to that yet? I know you're new."

"I am," he said, glancing at her bemusedly. She was young looking, her face round and full of the long faded youth that Urie had talked about. Her eyes were very dull, however. Kaneki felt they lacked a spark of anything. There was no passion in her airy voice or in her glassy eyes.

It was like he was being escorted by a girl long dead, and her body had not quite realized it yet.

"It must be so jarring," she said, "to adjust to this. What is it like, being you? I've asked a few different people since it's all been spilled out in the open. But you know, they all told me to keep my mouth shut. Should I keep my mouth shut?"

She was testing him, he realized. She was testing the waters of how much she could push him until he snapped at her. Proved he was really a ruthless ghoul.

He wouldn't give her the satisfaction.

"I think you have no qualms about saying what you want to say," Kaneki told her curtly. "If someone wanted to stop you, that'd be their own problem. Um, sorry, but I don't think I caught your name."

She paused mid-step. It occurred to Kaneki that not even she knew where she was taking him. And then she laughed for real, a soft little giggle that sounded strange and uncertain, plucked from her chest and deposited gently upon his shoulders. "Ah, that might help. I'm Ihei Hairu."

"I'd ask if you're scared of me, but it's pretty clear that's not that case." Kaneki pried his arm from hers and faced her fully. "I can't tell what your real intentions are, and that's fine, I guess. I don't really care, even if your plan was to lure me out into an alley and kill me. I mean, I couldn't blame you, really."

Ihei stood with her knuckles white against the handle of her briefcase. She eyed him, no real emotion backing her gaze, and she smiled.

"I'd kill you," she admitted. "Gladly. Is that what you want?"

Kaneki felt cold all of a sudden.

"I don't know what I want," he said.

Ihei's giggle dusted the air.

"Then," she said airily, "I guess I won't kill you. Yet."

"Thanks, I guess."

"You're welcome!" She patted his shoulder as though reassuringly. "I really was serious about undercover work. We, the young ones, gotta stick together." She winked, and she stretched her arms above her head. Her briefcase bounced against her arm. "Gosh, I'm late, I think. Oh well. Do you wanna get breakfast?"

"I have a meeting," he admitted.

"After?" She checked her watch. "I can be late. Or just not show up. High school is fun."

"I can't say I entirely agree, but if you say so." He scratched the back of his head. "Sorry. Um, do you really want to?"

"I wouldn't bother asking if I didn't," she said innocently. Her voice carried itself away. "I think it'd be a good time. Don't you? Like I said, young ones like us, we gotta stick together."

"You seemed pretty interested in killing me about a minute ago."

"That was a minute ago, and now is now," Ihei said breezily. "Say yes. Let's go!"

Kaneki didn't even know how to respond to this.

So he just said, "Okay."

And she just cocked her head, and shrugged her shoulders up to her ears.

"Nice," she said.

And then she walked away from him.

It took Kaneki a solid minute before he could move forward again. It had been a strange encounter to begin with. He didn't want to dwell on it.

Yoshitoki's voice was unbearably cheery when he called, "Come in." Kaneki opened the door to the office and shut it behind him, stepping up to the man's desk. "Oh my, you look like death."

"The desired effect," Kaneki joked mildly, causing the man to laugh. It was nice that Yoshitoki had a sense of humor. He sat down cautiously. "I need to ask, since I know you read Mutsuki's file. Is he okay? Do I…" Kaneki's eyes found their way toward the corner of the room and the corner of his memory. "Should I be doing something differently? I feel like I'm doing something wrong."

"Why is that?" Yoshitoki's brow raised. "Because he ran away?"

"Well, yes, but it's more than just that." Kaneki wrung his hands nervously. "I'm sorry. I don't know what else to do. Usually I'd just… let him sort out what's bothering him on his own. But I feel so responsible…"

"Kaneki," Yoshitoki said gently, "you are not responsible for Mutsuki Tooru's sadness."

"I don't believe that."

Yoshitoki watched him with a vague, soft gaze, and he sighed. "Okay," he relented, holding up his hands. "I get it. You want to be able to help him. Comfort him. But, Kaneki, his problems are so beyond you. Listen, if you want I can recommend a psychiatrist. I don't think Mutsuki would like that, though."

Kaneki thought back to the medical reports. The psychiatric ward.

"No," he admitted. "He wouldn't."

"Here is my recommendation," Yoshitoki said, holding up one finger. "Speak to him. Let him open up at his own pace. Don't push him away or belittle him. Don't try to control him. Just be there for him, and I think that will make all the difference."

Kaneki bowed his head, listening to his words and trying to comprehend them. Don't push him away. Easier said than done.

"I hope you're right," Kaneki murmured. "It would be an unbearable thing to hurt him again."

Yoshitoki's smile was thin and small, the faintest hint of it pulling at the corners of his lips. He closed his eyes, and he moved his head, and when he did, he looked infinitely older.

And then he changed the subject.

"You had something for me?"

"Oh!" Kaneki pulled the folded up scrap of paper from his pocket. "Right. Special delivery. Aogiri names."

"Names." Yoshitoki looked actually a little surprised. He reached over the desk and plucked the paper from Kaneki's fingers. "No kidding. Real names?"

"Hell if I know." Kaneki leaned back in his seat. "The kanji will probably be off since the informant can't exactly ask how to spell them."

"Fair enough." Yoshitoki unfolded the paper and glanced it over. His eyes greedily slid from right to left, his chin lowering toward his chest as he consumed each and every stroke of Touka's pen with delight. "Tatara. Noro. Eto… Yamori…" Yoshitoki covered his mouth and chin, and Kaneki suspected he was hiding a smile. "I need to think about this. I'll need more information to put these names to ours. If we can put faces to them, that would be better."

"My friend will get on that," Kaneki said.

"Your friend?"

Kaneki froze. He looked up at Yoshitoki and he opened his mouth to hastily correct himself.

"I won't tell if you won't," Yoshitoki said, holding up the scrap of paper and smirking. "Partner in crime, look at the mess we're in. You think I'm in any position to judge?"

"Why do you accept it," Kaneki uttered vacantly, "so readily? Aren't you going to… to condemn me for it? A ghoul as a friend. How absurd."

"Your existence has shaken up my mindset." Yoshitoki winked. "Besides, friend is a better word than informant. Friend means you trust them."

"I do trust them."

Yoshitoki eyed him, and his smile softened. "Then I am very sorry," he said, "that I have put them in this position."

"Just make good on your promise," Kaneki sighed. "Just… just protect my friend, when the time comes. Please. Even if you have to choose between them and me. If you have to save one of us, save my friend."

"That's not a reasonable bargain."

"I'm not a reasonable person."

Yoshitoki laughed. "You've got me there!" He laid his hands out against the table, his smile bright. "How would I justify such a choice?"

"I don't know, sir," Kaneki replied. "You seem pragmatic, I'm sure you'd figure something out."

"Ha!" Yoshitoki leaned back in his chair and cupped his chin. "You have absolutely zero regard for your own life."

"Yes, that's true." Kaneki thumbed the edge of the desk, unable to meet the man's eye. "I figured that might be why the CCG tolerates me."

"Harsh," Yoshitoki said. He didn't deny it, though. "Now, didn't you have an additional proposition for me?"

Kaneki had to think about it.

"I might have another ghoul," he admitted.

"Oh?"

"Tentative yes?" Kaneki offered, raising his eyes and smiling weakly. "I'll be honest, I'm not entirely sure about it. I know I should wait, see how well this works out before I get ahead of myself. But it's a possibility that we can weigh in."

"Explain." Yoshitoki leaned forward, resting his chin on top of his folded hands. His eyes could probably tear the thoughts from Kaneki's head and spool them up in the empty space between them.

"I know someone who would be willing, probably," Kaneki sighed, grimacing a bit. "The only problem is… I trust this person infinitely less than I do the ghoul we planted in Aogiri. It would be a bigger gamble."

"You know I'm a gambling man."

"You might not like the odds," Kaneki said. He pressed his lips together, and he smiled at Yoshitoki. He had to play this game, this façade of ease and contentment that this man played up so well. He couldn't be intimidated.

If Kaneki faltered now, what would become of him? Of Touka? Of this new world beginning to creep over the horizon?

"May I ask," Yoshitoki said, "how you find these ghouls?"

"Charisma."

Yoshitoki's laughter was easy and light, dusting the room like fresh snow. "I suppose your secrets deserve to stay that way. You are not obligated to tell me everything— though to be fair, it might be dangerous for me not to know."

"I can take that chance."

"But can I?" Yoshitoki's brow rose quizzically. "Think about it. Think about what I'm betting on you."

"You're betting your legacy on me," Kaneki told him coolly, "but I'm betting my life on you. Pull through, sir. Don't let me down."

"Do you not trust me, Kaneki?" Yoshitoki feigned a hurt look, his brow knitting together shortly before he burst into a short fit of chuckles. "Oh, you really are tense. Please lighten up. My recommendation is to gain this ghoul's trust before they gain yours. Once that is accomplished, plant the seeds of this objective."

"Most ghouls don't bite at the idea of working for the CCG," Kaneki sighed. But Tsukiyama is not most ghouls, he thought bitterly. He'd probably love the idea. Oh, oh, oh, I should have let him fucking die.

"Nicely put," Yoshitoki said delightedly. Kaneki realized it was because of the pun he'd made. That had been unintentional, but he appreciated the gesture. "How did you get our mutual friend to bite?"

"I didn't." He frowned, looking away from Yoshitoki. "I had a different ghoul in mind, but… I don't know. My friend… is very hard to understand."

"I see. And you say you do trust them?"

"Sir," Kaneki said, looking sharply into Yoshitoki's soft black eyes. He reminded Kaneki of an old dog. Worn from too much love and too much heartache. "I would gladly die for them. Please don't take that lightly, I really mean it."

Yoshitoki studied him, his smile genial and perpetual as the open road. "I hate to say it," he said, "but that is exactly what I'm afraid of. I've said this before, but you need to hear it again. We don't want you to die, Kaneki."

"You won't want me to live, if my friend dies when you could save them." Kaneki knew the dullness of his own voice, the way his whole body tensed and his eyes narrowed tiredly.

"I don't appreciate the threat," Yoshitoki said with a playful frown. "I'm only trying to be a friend."

Kaneki shot him a cool stare. Yoshitoki's frown turned into a thin line, and he leaned back into his seat.

"I see," the man said. "I understand, Kaneki. You're very serious— but I am too. I don't intend on going back on my promise."

"Even when the whole CCG turns against you?"

"I pray it won't come to that."

"But say it does," Kaneki insisted. "Say you have to let this secret out into the open— you have the obligation to protect this ghoul. You can't put them in Cochlea either. That's not the deal."

"I'll do my best," Yoshitoki said.

"That's not good enough."

"It happens to be all I have at the moment," Yoshitoki said with a thin smirk. "And mind you, my best is quite a lot. I do have some authority here, Kaneki. The only person I would have to convince is my father."

For some reason, that chilled Kaneki. Because Yoshitoki seemed to be the Boss. The head of everything, the source of all this madness. And to think someone had authority over him… it was jarring. A faceless figure towering over the king like a god.

"You aren't asking to keep a puppy, sir," Kaneki said. "This is a ghoul. You can't make the excuses you made for me— I know them. I care about them. But I can't deny that they have done horrible things in their life."

"We have all done terrible things in our lives," Yoshitoki said.

"But the CCG," Kaneki argued for the sake of arguing, "are not ghouls."

"You have gotten me to think," Yoshitoki said, "that perhaps we might be looking at things at all the wrong angles. Someday I would very much like to meet your friend."

"I'm sure she would hate to meet you."

"Then it would be a treat for sure." Yoshitoki looked at Kaneki, and his smile was thin. "Before this talk on ethics goes any further, there is something you should know."

Uh oh.

Kaneki did not like the way the atmosphere was changing.

"What?" he asked anxiously. "Is it about my friend?"

"Your ghoul friend?" Yoshitoki laughed, perhaps at a joke that went beyond Kaneki. "No, no. This is an entirely different matter. I was expecting Mutsuki to be here, but I don't blame him for not being up to it."

Kaneki thought about the last conversation he'd had with Mutsuki, and his mouth went dry.

"Paperwork," he explained half-heartedly.

"It happens." Yoshitoki pulled a folder from his desk drawer, and he set it gingerly between them. "Before I tell you, I need you to know that none of this is up to you. You have zero authority over this matter, and you cannot act like you do. Understand? I'm merely telling up because I feel obligated to give you a forewarning."

Nervous knots coiled up inside his chest and around his stomach, and oh, oh, oh, he could not even hear the rattle of his own breath any longer.

"What is this?" he asked, glancing worriedly at the folder.

"This," Yoshitoki said, opening the folder slowly, "is an application we received yesterday. I know it's a little late to tell you, but Mutsuki isn't the sole candidate for the Quinx Project. Two junior academies were evaluated at the same time for possible recipients. There were multiple matches, but Mutsuki was the only one who responded immediately given the high risk surgery involved."

Kaneki sat in silence, hearing these words but not truly processing them.

"Why…?" he murmured, sinking low into his seat. "Why children?"

"I don't understand it either," Yoshitoki admitted. "But this is the only way to get results."

"It's cruel," Kaneki snapped.

"It's necessary."

"It is not," he hissed, his eyes narrowing. "No. Your curiosity is what's fueling this now. No. What do you have to say for yourself? Who the hell do you think you are, Emperor Frederick II? Akbar the Great? If you subject children to the madness of isolation, do you really expect them to unveil the secrets of god to you? No. I don't want to hear this."

Kaneki found himself on his feet and pacing, his fingers tangled in his hair.

"No," he repeated, "I don't want to hear this!"

"Please calm down, Kaneki."

"Tell me why you're experimenting on children, and I will!"

"It just produces the best results," Yoshitoki said evenly. "I'm not proud of this, but it is what it is, and it won't be changing."

Kaneki took a great gulp of a breath. He dragged his fingers through his hair, and he watched the wall desperately.

"How could you do this to someone else?" he whispered.

"Because," Yoshitoki replied, "your existence is the answer to an age old quarrel. And more of you will only solidify that."

Kaneki eyed him distrustfully.

"Would you rather have never met Mutsuki?" Yoshitoki offered.

"That's not what I'm saying."

"And I'm not saying what I have done here is right," the man sighed, "but I do think it's necessary. I'm doing my best to ensure that it benefits the lives of these kids. So please, Kaneki, sit down and read this."

Kaneki had to resist the urge to snap some choice profanities at him. It was difficult, his fingers tensing up as he clenched them. No cracking. Not this time.

He took the folder gingerly, pulling it close and glancing at the name on the application. He then let his eyes glide to the identification photo clipped onto the page. It was a boy he recognized immediately, if only for the horribly ugly crooked teeth that protruded sharply from his otherwise handsome mouth.